


Appetite for Destruction

by Luke2leia



Category: Guns N' Roses, Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Multi, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 14:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20694878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luke2leia/pseuds/Luke2leia
Summary: Santa Carla, 1986 – David and the Lost Boys help Guns N Roses in their hour of need. As the decades pass, David keeps track of his musical obsessions, playing a long game with Axl and his crew.I own nothing but my own strange ideas. Any similarities between persons living, dead, or undead, is purely coincidental and for entertainment purposes only.





	1. Paradise City

Paradise City

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Warnings: M/M multi pairing, M/F, explicit sex, non-con/dub-con, explicit drug use/abuse, vampire-compliant violence

.............................

....................................................................

1986 - Santa Carla (pre-movie, no Star or Laddie)

The sun was going down as they pulled off to the side of the road, the crappy van sputtered and rolling to a stop. They were still a few miles from the town, the distant welcoming billboard backlit in the dwindling light. Duff groaned.

"Shit, man. We're out of gas. We're never gonna make this fucking gig."

Axl came and crouched over him, staring out the front window with a frown. "We'd have made it if some assholes hadn't used all our money on snacks."

Slash whined from where he lay, coming down off a high, on the floor in the back of the van. "Hey, I hadn't eaten in a coupla days, man. Fuck you!"

Running long fingers through lank red hair, Axl sighed deeply. "Fuck you too. Time to empty your pockets and check the seat cushions, boys. Let's see if we have enough to buy some gas and get this death trap moving."

It took a little while to search the van, the sunset long gone as they mustered a few dollars together. Axl decided he and Izzy would strike out for the town to see if they find a gas station, maybe get a ride back to the van. They were just getting ready to head out when they heard the deep-throated sound of motorcycles coming their way.

The four riders passed them heading out of town, only to slow and turn back to pull up behind them. Axl swore under his breath at the dangerous look of them, a gang fight now was the last thing they needed.

The boys all rolled out of the van, standing up to watch the four bikers saunter toward them, the obvious leader sporting a Billy Idol haircut and wickedly sharp smirk as he came to stand before Axl. There was an air of something wild and hungry about the bunch, and it pulled at Axl even as it made him nervous.

Slash elbowed Steven, whispering under his breath. "Fuck man, those guys look tougher than we do. We're so fucked."

Steven patted his shoulder consolingly, without turning, his attention caught by one of the bikers. The dude looked remarkably similar to Slash, only with long, silky black hair instead of Slash's wild curls. The man held his gaze, dark eyes flashing amusement.

Izzy stood behind Axl, looking over the bikers with growing concern. Besides the Idol wanna be, there was one that coulda been a stand-in for Duff or Steven, sporting the same shaggy, wild blonde hair, one guy that could be Slash's long-lost straight-haired brother, and one young guy with soft blonde curls and a wild ass battle jacket. They all stood like they were one solid unit, staring back at Izzy and his friends with a hard, clear-eyed look and sharp, threatening smiles.

The Idol stand-in spoke up, and his voice matched his smirk – velvet laden with condescending amusement.

"You boys seem like you could use a little help."

Axl's eyes narrowed at the tone, sneer twisting his mouth. Before he could say something, Izzy whispered in his ear.

"Dude, we need that concert money. Maybe if we play nice, they'd get us to a gas station?"

Axl grumbled, turning his head slightly and nodding at Izzy and forcibly turning a more friendly face to the gang leader.

"We ran out of gas. Maybe you'd let one of us bum a ride to gas station?"

"Perhaps. Where're you headed?"

"We have a concert tonight in town. Some kind of beach-side open air stage?"

The Duff look-alike perked up at that. "You guys are musicians?"

Idol-double rolled his eyes discretely, suddenly looking less threatening. Actually, all of them did. Axl shrugged and rolled with it.

"We're Guns n' Roses, man. We've been playing up 'n down the coast all summer."

The wild blonde biker was lighting up like a Christmas tree. "DUDE! I thought you looked familiar!" He punched the curly-haired boy in the arm. "They were in that rock mag I snagged a couple weeks ago. They're like totally hot right now!"

"Whatta ya know, looks like we've got celebrities in our midst. I think we can help you boys after all."

The spike-haired bleach blonde pulled a cigarette from behind his ear, lighting up. Behind him, his gang seemed to relax even more, the tall blonde now actually bouncing around the shorter one with a huge grin on his face.

Axl drew out a cigarette of his own, holding it out. "Can I get a light?"

The other man smiled, pulling out his lighter again, to spark it and hold it out.

Taking a few puffs to make sure the smoke was lit, Axl exhaled deeply, finally feeling a little more relaxed.

"Thanks. I'm Axl" He waved his arm around to indicate his friends. "This is Izzy, Slash, Steven and Duff."

The biker gang nodded at them, the leader taking a deep puff of his own cigarette.

"I'm David. These are my brothers, Dwayne, Paul and Marko. Welcome to Santa Carla."

With another puff, he motioned at the two blondes in his gang. "Paul and Marko can take a couple of you to get gas if you like."

"That'd be fucking awesome. Slash!" Axl pulled the couple of dollars out of his pocket, handing it to his friend. "You and Steven go with them, get back as quick as you can. We're already gonna be late."

Paul laughed like a hyena, clapping a hand on Marko, who looked at them with bright eyes as he chewed absently on one of his gloved fingers.

"Don't you worry, Axl-man. We'll have your guys back in a flash."

Slash and Steven looked at each other as they stepped forward, following Paul and Marko to their bikes. Paul patted Slash's hands where they gripped his shoulders.

"Better grab my middle, dude, you're gonna wanna hold on tighter than that!"

The shaggy blonde revved his bike, gunning forward in a quick hop that had Slash yelping and wrapping his arms around Paul's middle. Watching, Steven followed his lead. Cackling, Paul peeled out, Marko fast behind him, zipping past the rest of the group with a throaty roar of exhaust and a blur of color as they raced toward town.

Axl watched them go, concern furrowing his forehead. He startled when an arm slid over his shoulders, turning to see David up close and personal, cool blue eyes looking like they were seeing into his soul.

"Relax. They'll be back soon. Now, tell us about your band?"

David produced a small bottle of Jack from one of his pockets, offering it with a friendly-enough smile. Blinking, Axl took it, opening it up to take a deep pull before handing it back. David passed the bottle around, and Duff opened up the back of the van to show off their amps and instruments.

Axl breathed a sigh of relief as David wandered away, finally able to shake the discomfort of being the focus of the other man's regard. He saw Izzy talking with Dwayne, the two going over Izzy's guitar. Maybe these guys weren't so bad after all.

It only seemed like moments before the sound of shouts and the rumble of motorcycles announced the triumphant return of the bikers and his friends. All four of them were howling, Slash actually standing on the back pegs of Paul's motorcycle, his hands bunched into the collar of the other man's long jacket for support, curly black hair blowing wildly. Steven cradled a gallon jug with one hand, the other wrapped across Marko's stomach as they came to a quick stop in front of the van.

David seemed to track Slash's movements, bright eyes observing the dark-skinned man with interest as he leapt off the back of Paul's bike, clapping his driver on the back and laughing. Axl watched closely as David approached, moving so suddenly in front of Slash that the other man nearly ran into him, only David's quick supporting arm stopped him from toppling over. When Slash looked up, startled, David's grin was warm and inviting, and Slash's answering smile was bright, if a bit shy.

Duff finished gassing up the van, and the boys got back in, firing up the beast as Axl leaned out the window. David pulled his bike up alongside.

"Follow us, we'll take a shortcut to get you to the stage faster."

"Thanks again, man. Just don't drive too crazy, this piece of crap starts to shake when it goes over fifty."

David chuckled. "We'll keep that in mind."

…....................

True to their word, David and his gang got them to the gig in no time, leading them to a wide alley that opened to a ramp down to the stage, even helping them carry their gear. A harried promoter ran up, nearly sagging in relief as he talked briefly with Axl before running to the front of the curtained stage.

The sound of the crowd roaring in delight at the announcement of the band's arrival washed over them, drowning out all chance of talking. David and his gang waved as they left the boys to set up, going to find a place to watch the show from.

A few minutes of set up and a quick sound check and they were ready to go, grinning like jackasses as the crowd welcomed the lifting of the curtain with yells of unrestrained energy. Slash fired up the opening riff of 'Welcome to the Jungle' and everything else faded away.

…...................

It was after midnight when the show came to a close. Paul was the first to reach the band as the boys came down off the back of the stage, and he was practically vibrating with energy. He bounced past Axl, earning a snarl from smacking him on the ass and continuing on to leap on Duff's back, whooping with joy.

"DUDE! That was rockin'! YOW!"

Duff let out a friendly 'oof' as he stumbled slightly under Paul's enthusiastic greeting. Watching them, Steven laughed, riding a bit of a high himself, pumped up by the wild crowds.

Sliding up to Axl, David put a hand on his shoulder. Turning, Axl once again found himself falling in to the icy depths of those pale, blue eyes.

"You put on a great show, I'm impressed."

Axl frowned at how much he liked hearing praise fall from the other man's lips. When Izzy smacked him on the back, he whipped his head around, quick flash of anger melting under his friend's grin. He ducked his head, turning back to David without meeting his gaze.

"You should be. You wanna come party with us?"

From his perch on Duff's back, Paul howled with joy, and the rest of the bikers laughed, the band joining in. David chuckled as he gave Axl a light pat, following after Paul, Duff and Slash.

"Guess that's a yes."

The hotel they were booked into was within walking distance of boardwalk, and after they stowed their gear back in the van the whole group headed to it, scooping up some trim as they went. They had two large connected rooms, and the promoter had set them up with plenty of food and booze before disappearing.

As the band tucked in, Paul wandered around, idly munching on some chips as he came up to where Slash and Steven were seated.

"Dude, things are kinda lame, don'tcha think? You wanna come with me to get something to really fire the party up?"

Steven gave him a wide grin as he chewed through a huge sandwich. He leaned over to Slash and whispered in his ear, earning a smile and a nod in return.

"Sounds good man, but we only got so much scratch."

Paul laughed and shook his head. "Don't worry about it, man. Tonight's our treat. You guys were too awesome."

Steven and Slash both brightened, Steven bouncing up to follow Paul to his bike.

"Fuck yeah, let's go!"

The two blonde terrors took off, and the rest got down to the serious business of drinking and enjoying the beach bunnies they'd snagged. Before long, Paul and Steven were back, loaded to the gills with laced joints, coke and a rainbow of pills.

The two made a few circuits of the rooms, distributing the goods with friendly camaraderie. Duff grabbed what Dwayne snagged, tucking into some pills along with laced weed expertly rolled and already lit.

They leaned on each other, laughing as the girls hanging with them started swaying drunkenly, far too tiny and inexperienced to share their tolerances. Once they made their rounds, Steven and Paul joined them, making up for lost time with bottles of jack in hand, having already washed down a variety of potent chemical diversions.

Across the room, Slash stared almost dejectedly at the cornucopia of substances piled on the coffee table in various baggies. He poked at a few pills, till David sat down next to him, offering a lit blunt. Slash gave the spiky-haired blonde a bland look, and David returned it a with a sharp grin.

"One of Paul's 'specials' – give it a try, I think you'll like it."

Shrugging, Slash took the joint, inhaling deeply and holding it for several apparently blissful minutes. He was smiling back at David as he exhaled, eyes starting to glaze slightly as the strong mix hit him.

"Good stuff, hmm?"

Slash took another hit, feeling his toes go numb.

"…oh, yeah…"

He handed the joint back to David, eyes going wide watching the other man suck half the joint to ash before handing it back, holding it for what seemed like a really long time before exhaling directly into Slash's face. Whatever was in that joint was fucking strong, Slash thought, as it started to hit him, brain going foggy, the drugs wrapping him in cotton.

Something about David's eyes…kept pulling him in…making him feel like he was drowning, even as he reached out, patting the black-clad biker's chest.

"…you're…good folks…man…glad we met…"

Words were getting harder for the curly-haired man, a happy drug-fueled haze settling in hard. David patted his hand, smile turning soft, eyes bright and entrancing.

"Glad we met you too, Slash. Care to let me show you how much?"

That velvet voice dripped over Slash like honey, somehow pouring right into his core, making him gasp and breathe harder, shifting uncomfortably on the couch they sat together on. His foggy brain could only focus on one thing, letting David do whatever it was he meant.

"…yeah…show me…"

He let David help him up off the couch, support him as he stumbled along into the other bedroom and into the open closet. Slash couldn't help but wrap arms around David as the pale blonde dove in, capturing his lips and swallowing the groan that ground out of him as their groins met.

Even through layers of leather and denim, the feel of David pressed hard against him was beyond exciting, his jeans suddenly almost painfully tight.

"Let me help you with that…" David breathed, kissing along Slash's jawline and down his neck, nimble hands opening the jeans Slash wore, pushing them down and out of the way. Cool fingers wrapped around his now burning hot dick and Slash swore, grinding into David's grip.

A few frenzied thrusts, and Slash felt the world spin, finding himself pushed up against the wall of the closet, those cool fingers caressing and spreading his ass cheeks, an equally cool tongue bathing his tight ring of muscle, sucking on now excruciatingly sensitive tissue to leave him a babbling, writhing mess. That liquid voice was suddenly in his ear, telling him to relax and push back against the rock hard and impossibly thick tool pressing his spit-slick entrance.

Slash scrabbled at the wall of the closet with desperate fingers, wailing as David sank to the hilt, bright bursts of unimaginable pleasure sparking out of hard thrusts cutting through the fog of drugs, his own neglected dick hard and heavy, the smooth wall it ground against providing no relief. David's mouth was on his shoulder, sucking gently at the crook of his neck, David's hand slipping to wrap around Slash's dick, expertly working the younger man to mindless frenzy.

David picked up the pace, one arm wrapped around Slash's chest, the other working his cock as David pounded into him with punishing ferocity. Slash's head was rolled back, resting on David's shoulder as the pale blonde's mouth was locked tight on the other side of his neck.

A guttural scream preceded Slash's wall-painting climax; only the gradual slowing of David's pistoning hips giving evidence that his crest had come at nearly the same time. Hard, panting breath coming from the darker man slipped quickly to quiet and calm as the drugs and mind-blowing orgasm overwhelmed him, his consciousness fading out. David caught his slumping form with ease, lifting Slash bridal style to deposit him on one of the beds, pulling the boy's pants most of the way up and adjusting himself as well before rejoining the dwindling party.

In the other room, Dwayne and Paul shared girls with Duff and Steven, and David's smirk was dark as he watched the group. The mortal boys were too far gone in the grips of Paul's shared stash to notice the trim they were drilling had faded; life sucked out by his brothers as the two human blondes grunted through their drug-addled climaxes, sliding together down the wall in a happy, hazy heap. With dark smiles and glances, Paul and Dwayne carried the empties away, ostensibly to the other room, only to slip unnoticed out the open balcony, to dump their trash over the open ocean. They were back in the space of moments, helping Duff and Steven back to their feet, walking the inebriated pair over to beds to lay them down and straddle them.

In unison, the bikers pinned their partners in strong embraces, mouths and hands drawing out ragged, plaintive sighs as the two blissed out blonde rockers swooned. Deep sucker marks shone darkly against pale skin on the boys' necks as Paul and Dwayne got up to let them sleep off the night's effects.

David found Axl and Izzy with Marko, their eyes glazed over, caught up in the influence of drugs and the spell of illusion Marko wove for them, clouding their minds and leading them to imagine themselves sharing a girl, spit-roasted between them. Axl had a bruising grip on narrow hips as the redhead hammered Marko hard from behind, the high whining moans and cursing falling from Axl's lips reminiscent of the noises he'd made on stage. Izzy swayed where he stood, hands fisted in Marko's long curls and keening loudly as the curly blonde sucked him off with sloppy eagerness.

Izzy came with a loud shout, shaking apart as Marko's nimble fingers continued stroking his sweet spot from inside. He was nearly whimpering as the mouth wrapped around his dick held him captive, tongue still lapping maddeningly over-stimulated flesh, crying out again and falling to his knees when a bright jolt of pain in his groin wrenched another orgasm from him, Marko's tongue seeming to go into overdrive, catching the warm wetness he could feel pooling around the base of his tortured dick. When the other man finally let him go, Izzy slumped bonelessly to the ground, eyes fluttering as he passed out.

Axl laughed blearily as he watched his friend tip over, gripping even tighter and bucking harder into the sweet-assed honey he was buried in. It just seemed to make sense that he'd work his cock while he was at it, even if the sensations he was feeling in his dick and the hand he had wrapped around it didn't quite seem to mesh.

Marko's face was the picture of bliss as he moaned in time to Axl's snapping hips, the slender red-head's aggressive touch bringing him quickly to the brink, his sudden clenching pushing Axl over the edge with a sharp wail.

Sitting back abruptly, Axl exhaled with an almost-giggle, caressing the smooth ass in front of him. A delicate face with pale doe eyes turned his way, mesmerizing him as he slid a hand into soft curls, capturing plush lips with his own. His head was spinning as he was pushed backwards to the floor, that velvety mouth mapping a slow path down his neck, until a sharp pinch flooded his vision with red, then everything fading to black.

Snickering, Marko pulled his own pants up, then scooped Axl off the floor and deposited him on a bed. There were still a few groupie types hanging around, but one round of David's cold and hungry glare circling through the rooms sent them all skittering off to find their fun elsewhere.

With dawn imminent, David and his men assembled glancing around at the suite at the unconscious quintet. Paul laughed happily, smacking Marko on the arm as they headed out the patio door to stand for a moment looking out at a sleeping Santa Carla.

"Man, that was awesome! I hope they survive long enough to come back again."

"Have to agree with you, Paul. For humans, they really know how to live." David hopped effortlessly to the railing, then over the side, his brothers following, slipping down to the ground quietly to grab their bikes and head home.

Behind them, dark, befuddled eyes half-hidden in wild curly hair widened slowly in confusion before succumbing once more to the grip of intoxication.

….................

Axl's head was pounding…or something else was pounding? He tried to sit up, only to lay back with a soft moan. Both. It was definitely both. He heard someone as they shuffled slowly towards the door. There were muffled voices for a few minutes, the shuffling noise getting louder again, followed by Duff's voice, much louder than ever should be allowed.

"Gotta get up, everybody. Checkout's in five minutes."

Groans sounded throughout the suite, beds creaking as bodies moved. Footsteps cycled in and out of bathrooms, and there was the sound of bottles clinking and noisy gulps. The mattress he was on dipped as someone sat down next to him, and cracking a throbbing eye he saw Slash holding out a bottle of jack, a lit cigarette dangling dangerously from his plump lips.

Axl sat up, reaching for the cigarette and drawing half of it in on one puff. Slash snorted in amusement, taking another swig of whiskey.

Exhaling, Axl spun the butt back around, and Slash snapped it back up, inhaling as Axl drank deeply from the bottle. Slash stood, offering a hand to his band mate.

"Come on, old man."

"I'm only three years older than you, asshole."

"Yeah, that's like, a whole eighth of your life. Old man."

Axl snarled and stood up, and Slash suddenly thought of somewhere else to be with great haste. He slipped past a confused Duff who turned to ask him what was going on, only to swivel back as he heard Axl hollering after the curly haired goof booking it down the hallway, giggling like a madman.

A short while later, the group finally assembled at the van, shoving at each other good-naturedly and checking on their gear as they piled in. Duff eased long legs into the driver's side, firing up the rusty heap for long trip back to L.A.

Behind him, Steven snickered, laughing out right when Axl gave him a dark look.

"We musta all banged the same chick, man, we all got the same calling card!"

The guys took turns checking the bruises on each other to confirm for themselves. Slash looked out one of the van's windows, picking at his guitar and muttering something about not remembering any chick, which only made the rest laugh harder. Steven patted him on the shoulder as they left the seaside town.

"We gotta come back here again, this gig was too fuckin' heavy!"

Axl glanced back at the drummer, grin tweaking the corners of his mouth.

"Finally said something I can agree with, blondie."


	2. Mr Brownstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-concert revelry... Axl meets an old friend

Mr Brownstone

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…Now I get up around whenever  
I used ta get up on time  
But that old man he's a real muthafucker  
Gonna kick him on down the line

I used ta do a little but a little wouldn't do  
So the little got more and more  
I just keep tryin' ta get a little better  
Said a little better than before…

[Mr. Brownstone… Guns N' Roses]

…..................

Warnings: drug and alcohol abuse descriptions, semi-graphic sex

…...................

......................................

1989 – Los Angeles

Near midnight, the limo pulled in behind the LA Coliseum, handlers scooping up the band and a gaggle of fresh trim and shoveling them all in the back. The party barge continued on, taking the revelers to the hotel, and the wild company poured out and headed up to their suites, well lubricated on the short drive, the girls already half out of their clothes, the band haphazardly tucking themselves back into pants left hanging open and loose on narrow hips.

Once safely escorted to their rooms, the party really got underway, overflowing baggies and small orange bottles appearing like magic. The night slipped by in a wild and happy haze, the boys submersing themselves in the magical grip of coke and smack and always more booze. Slash and Steve left used needles and leftovers in one of the bathrooms, leading to a small scuffle as some groupies argued over the score.

Girls came and went, beneath, above, between them; pretty faces and tight bodies becoming nothing but a multicolored blur of bouncy tits and firm asses. Round about five in the morning the madness finally cooled off, almost everyone in the darkened suites laying nearly comatose in beds, on the floors, even in the bathtubs.

Axl was slumped in a chair, eyes glazing as a cigarette dangled from his lips, an almost empty bottle of jack on a small table nearby. Between his knees, a bleach blonde had her mouth wrapped around his dick. She'd crashed hard though, drool running down her chin, down his crotch, her head slumped against his leg.

Movement caught Axl's gaze, and he lifted his head to slowly to track the person moving with silent ease through the suite. The man walked with too much grace to have been at the party long, slipping ghost-like over and around the laid-out bodies.

Recognition floated up through Axl's brain just as the pale spiky-haired blonde came to stand in front of him, smooth smirk growing to a wide wolfish smile.

"You wanna get some air, or are you still busy?"

David's voice was full of the same velvet wrapped steel he remembered, though he looked different, lesser, somehow. Clothed in a faded t-shirt and worn jeans, his personality felt dialed back, smaller than when last they met.

Axl considered, grunted in response, pushing the chick off to stand up and put himself together, stepping over her slumped form. David spun without looking back, heading out of the suite with the same leonine grace, Axl frowning as he followed the other man up to the roof.

Cool air off the ocean felt good, helping clear Axl's mind as he watched David sit on the roof ledge, legs dangling casually over a ten-story drop. He offered a cigarette and a light, which Axl took, before cautiously throwing one leg over the ledge to straddle it, facing David as they smoked in companionable silence for a while.

"Looks like your friends are still living it up. Maybe too much."

Axl grimaced, sucking on a lungful of smoke rather than answer right away. It was true, though he didn't want to admit it. Half the time it was amazing they even found the stage, let alone got through full sets. Steve was the worst, Slash and Izzy vying hard for second like it was a damn competition to see who could get the most fucked up.

"What's it to you?"

David chuckled at Axl's tone, blowing out a lazy smoke ring, eyes on the twinkling lights of the pre-dawn city.

"To me? Nothing at all. You don't seem so happy about it though."

Anger and frustration flared in Axl's chest, and he snarled at his rooftop companion.

"What the hell do you know about what makes me happy, motherfucker."

A wry smile tweaked at David's lips as he turned cool eyes towards the redhead.

"Just know what I see, I guess. And that you'll miss them when they're gone."

Axl stared at the blonde, seeing him better in the city lights. He appeared almost as strung out as Steve or Slash on a bad night, his face gaunt and skull-like in the neon glare that surrounded them. A thought hit Axl, and he blurted it out before he considered the consequences.

"Where are your brothers? They'd've been all over a party like this."

David's face flashed with pain before it hardened, pale blue eyes narrowing and glancing away. His voice was almost too soft for Axl to catch, spoken between puffs of a new cigarette.

"…They're…indisposed…"

Now it was Axl's turn to smirk. "Rehab got 'em, yeah? Left you behind when they went clean?"

A long exhale and a pause. "Something like that."

"Sucks to be you, I guess. Me 'n the boys'll figure our own shit out, just like we always do."

David turned his head slowly back towards Axl, a too-sharp smile growing across his mug.

"Gonna suck for both of us. Guess that's just how life is sometimes."

Axl barely had time to exclaim as David grabbed him, pulled him close. He could swear he saw blue eyes flash fiery gold before pain lanced down across his neck and shoulder and the world went dark.

…........................

Another crappy morning…or maybe afternoon. Axl's head throbbed in time with the sound of a headboard thumping rhythmically against a wall as someone fucked some leftover trim on the bed next to his. Cracking narrowed eyes, he saw Duff's long form draped over some chick too tiny to see more than a pair of skinny legs looped around his friend's ass.

"Fucking finish fucking before I beat your damned head in!"

Duff just laughed, the girl under him whining annoyingly until he sped up (the bastard), finally finishing with a couple of moans and grunts, to slump down and collapse off to the near side of his bed as he and the girl panted happily in the afterglow.

Nearly growling, Axl got up, staggering slightly as he headed for the bathroom. He was taking a leak when he heard a soft giggle coming from the curtained bathtub. Expecting some groupie that might make his day a little brighter, he pulled the curtain back with a smile.

Slash lay stretched out, strung out, hazy grin on his face, needle in one hand and loose tourniquet still wrapped around the other arm. Axl started swearing, grabbing the needle and throwing it in the trash, turning the shower on cold and full force on the prone figure.

It took several minutes for Slash to even notice, several more for him to start sputtering, batting weakly at the chilly spray. Axl turned the water off, reaching down to pull Slash upright and help him out of the tub, but he was too heavy and loose-limbed to move.

"Duff! Get your clothes on and help me with this idiot!"

McKagan shuffled in, grumbling as he grabbed Slash under the armpits, Axl hefting him at his knees to crab-walk the addled fool out and toss him on the nearest bed. Duff's toy was still on the bed, and squeaked as a cold, wet Slash landed practically in her lap. Squirming out from under him, she threw on some clothes and took off out of the suite, swearing like a sailor.

Looking around, Axl sighed. "Alright, where're the other two?"

Duff shrugged, gesturing to the rest of the suite. "Around, I guess? I was busy, ya know, doing something."

"Yeah, you were doing something. You got a fetish man, that chick barely came up to your chest. We better not get hit with another underage charge."

"Hey, she was old enough. I just like 'em pocket sized. Fit like a glove, ya know? And she wasn't complaining till we dumped Slash on her."

Axl smirked at the taller man. "Such a fucking asshole."

McKagan just laughed. "That was the plan, but someone had to interrupt…"

On the bed, Slash groaned, wiping a hand across his face and struggling to sit up. Axl rolled his eyes.

"You deal with that. I'm gonna look for the others."

Wandering between rooms, he finally found Steve and Izzy, curled up together, farther gone in the grip of Mr. Brownstone than Slash had been. Not even several ice buckets of cold water roused them from their delirium.

Axl started throwing things and swearing at the top of his (considerable) lungs. The few groupies that were still around made a hasty retreat after he tossed a bottle against a balcony door, breaking both and sending glass flying into the room.

Storming back to where Slash and Duff sat sharing cigarettes and one of the last bottles of jack, he stared hard at them both, panting as his earlier rage slowly ebbed.

"Gimme one of those."

Slash held out his own cigarette, this one just barely lit, and Axl snatched it out of his hand, glaring hard at the curly haired man. The mark on the darker man's throat made him furious, and he grabbed at Slash's shoulder, pulling him close so he could look at it better.

"What the fuck did you do, asshole, shoot up in your goddamn neck?"

Putting a hand to his neck, Slash shook his head, frowning.

"What? No, man, I used my arm, it was fine."

Duff gave the redhead an odd look. "You could answer that too, you've got the same thing."

Axl slapped at his neck, grunting as he felt something painfully tender. Storming over to the bathroom he checked it out, pushing gently on the dark bruise. He tried to remember the night before, but most of it was a blur. Something about pale, blue eyes? He stomped back out and headed for the door.

"Fuck it. You assholes can ring me when you've got your shit together. I'm out."

He heard Slash calling out, ignoring it in favor of hitting the elevator, leaning tensely against a wall till it arrived at the main floor. One of the handlers was sitting in the lobby, and hopped up to escort him out to a waiting limo. He snarled at the driver as he got in.

"Take me home."

Pouring himself a drink, he stared out the window as the limo pulled away, feeling his eyes sting and his heart clench as the hotel shrank in the distance. Fuck them. Fuck all of them for shitting on what they had.

He tossed the glass in his hand hard against the limo door opposite, but the padding kept it from breaking, instead it fell with a heavy thud to the floor, the dregs of alcohol dribbling uselessly out on the red carpeting. Covering his eyes, he leaned back, slumping further down in the seat, memories of the wild, hungry joy of earlier days cycling endlessly, hopelessly in his mind.


	3. Estranged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Guns N' Roses slowly disintegrates...ghosts of Axl's past revisit him. Will they more suffering...or sanctuary?

Ch. 3 – Estranged

… 'I'll never find anyone to replace you

Guess I'll have to make it through, this time - oh this time

Without you

I knew the storm was getting closer

And all my friends said I was high

But everything we've ever known's here

I never wanted it to die' …

['Estranged'… Guns N' Roses]

…................................

Warnings: M/M/M semi-explicit sex

…..............................................................................................

1994 – Malibu, Axl's mansion

Axl sat at a white piano in a white room, fingers trailing idly along the keys, slipping through melodies as the sun sets to the west of his mountaintop Malibu home. The notes rang clearly in the open space…the intro to 'November Rain' warping slowly into 'Estranged' as darkness wraps around the clean, sterile building.

A half empty bottle of brown liquor casts shimmery reflections around itself from its seat atop the piano. A fingerprint-stained empty glass rests on the far right end of the keyboard, overflowing ashtray on the left.

Everyone's gone, even the housekeeper, leaving Axl in hollow isolation, breaking the silence with bittersweet, melancholic music, played softly against the inky backdrop of the California hills at night.

He's been idly tracing the same few keys over and over again for a while now, mind buzzing blankly like the white snow of a TV with all the channels off-air.

"Well…this seems…brilliantly depressing."

Axl whips his head around, hand flattening on the keys to a discordant noise. Behind him stand two blonde men dressed like street trash…or, nearly identical to the jeans and flannel Axl's clothed in. Anger and vague unease rise as Axl does, stepping easily over the piano seat to face the intruders.

"How the FUCK did you get in here? Leave now or I'll call the fuckin' cops."

The young man with the loose, shaggy wheat-blonde locks smirks, stirring an odd sense of familiarity.

"Is that any way to treat old friends? I'd thought you'd be pleased to see us again."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about asshole, I've never seen you before in my life."

"So sure about that, hmm?" The smirker takes a deep draw on a cigarette, while his companion's tongue darts out of an almost-shy smile, drawing a lower lip in to chew on idly, eyes bright with humor.

Axl stared hard at the two, something about the one with wild curls and deep sea-green eyes drawing out old memories, and he grimaced at the pain it brought. It all came back like a hammer blow; the feel of a wild summer night, their music exploding out of them, wild and loud, rolling over the audience that screamed and writhed and poured that energy right back; his broken, beautiful family leaning on each other and playing, screaming, drinking, fucking till they succumbed to inebriation. He looks again at the two, recognition dawning.

"You…you two were part of that biker gang."

"Bingo. Someone hand the man a prize."

At Axl's frown, the taller man chuckles. "David." He indicates himself, then the curly-haired younger man. "and Marko. At your service." Marko's smile grows wide, crinkling his eyes.

"SHIT, yeah!" Axl starts, suddenly remembering. "But how the fuck did you get past the gate?"

David's smirk turns into a friendly grin, shrugs nonchalantly. "Just hopped over. Not that hard."

Eyes narrowing, Axl considers the pair. He knows the security in place, though caught in the gaze of those cool blue eyes his concerns fade, growing hazy and unimportant.

"Oh…yeah. I guess."

Marko is now chewing on a thumb, glancing with amusement between the redhead and David. Axl fixes on the younger man, brows knitting.

"Jesus, you don't look a day older. Bet you still get carded, yeah?"

Marko frowns as David's laugh booms in the echoing space though he moves in when David throws an arm over his shoulder. "Yeah, he still does."

Axl is giving David a shrewd look, taking in the face-framing pale gold hair, the matching beard kept short, the pale suede jacket and flannel beneath lending the man a Seattle-meets-Texas appearance that's at odds with Marko's ragged LA street-urchin vibe. Another image flashes in the redhead's mind as he considers them.

"You…I've seen you since then…I remember."

David flashes bright white teeth. "That's right."

"You were alone last time."

Glancing at Marko, there's a softer look on David's face as he gives a quick squeeze with the arm draped on the curly-haired man's shoulders.

"Yeah. It's taking a while, but my brothers are starting to come back to me."

Axl looks at the two, aching loss hitting him like truck. Anger boils up, till he's snarling at pair.

"Get the fuck out of here, I don't know what the fuck you want anyway. I'm not offering handouts."

The redhead turns away, hands clenched and shaking, even as something in his mind screams not to turn his back on the two men. A hand on his shoulder has him spinning, fist already swinging wildly.

It's caught and held so easily he nearly collapses against David, catching himself at the last moment to sway erratically, eyes wide-rimmed at the near collision. Icy blue eyes are pinning him again, full lips so close he could lick the smirk off of them without moving an inch.

"Easy there. We're not looking for charity. We just came to talk." Cool breath puffs soothingly over Axl's skin, as the silken voice slips under it, to leave the redhead trying to hide the faint shiver flowing from David's touch.

"And maybe get a drink." Marko pipes up.

Round cheeks covered in golden down curve up with amusement, but something dark glints in the cool gaze boring into Axl. His mind goes foggy again, but he catches the hint, swallowing dryly and turning his head as that magnetic glance sets him free.

"Drinks? Yeah, I can do that. Come on."

Walking towards the kitchen, he gives only a quick look back to ensure his guests are following him. Opening a wide set of cabinets filled to the brim with bottles, it's his turn to smirk.

"Pick your poison."

They pluck a couple of bottles of JD off the shelves, and he grabs one as well. He opens another cabinet, and they pick up glasses, then follow him out a sitting area with plush white couches and a low table.

Axl sits first, frowning slightly as Marko sits next to him on the sofa, David off to his left has pulled up a chair and turned it, facing him nearly head on. The shaggy blonde throws a leg over the nearest arm of his chair, sharp smile weaving behind a full glass of whiskey as he lounges back.

Marko's got his own glass topped off, and reaches over to fill Axl's as well, his sly look ruining the sense of deference to the redhead he's crowding as he pours. Axl mutters thanks, picking up the glass and leaning back to toss half of it down in one go, one leg tucking crosswise under the other. Marko nods, bringing a bent leg up, boot resting on the edge of the couch, pale knee peeking thru tattered jeans nearly brushing Axl's hip as he angles to face the other man.

The sense of entrapment rankles, and Axl shifts uncomfortably, glancing around but unwilling to look directly at either of the men sitting so closely.

"This house just for you?"

Axl's head snaps up, sucked in once again by David's gaze. He tries to shake his head, but his eyes won't seem to move when his head shifts back and forth.

"It was…I had a family…almost."

The redhead finally wrenches his eyes away, glancing at the darkness outside the window. Angry at himself for giving away more than he wanted to. The wife to be, the child that never was, the last things he wanted to discuss with a couple of bikers from a debauched gig in the far distant past.

David's gaze never wavers as he watches the musician sigh and shift in his seat.

"Too bad. Some of us just aren't meant for normal family life."

Axl's eyes flick David's way without meeting the blonde's glance before dancing away. Heaving another sigh, he brushes back silken red locks in defeat, slumping down in the couch again and nearly emptying his glass.

"Yeah…but it would have been…nice, I guess. Could have been."

"What about your band? And your music?"

The velvet voice wraps like a shroud around his heart, a sharp pain flashing through Axl's gut, and he grunts, leaning over the arm of the sofa, head turned away from these too-curious acquaintances...strangers, really. Tears sting his eyes as he covers his face with his free hand, breathing heavy, wishing they'd just go away and leave him in peace.

It's too much to take tonight, the empty darkness closing in, aching loneliness a howling void inside him. He's got nothing left, nothing to give these vultures that have come to pick at his bones and jeer about the past and what had been.

"Just FUCK OFF!"

Axl screeches back at their imagined jibes, hands waving, liquor spilling across the white carpet. He pulls in on himself, knees up in attempt at a barrier as his chin dips toward his chest to shut out the world.

There's a hand on his shoulder, so light and gentle it makes him shake, lightning rage boiling up to snap his limbs, sending glasses, the coffee table, the mostly full bottles, flying haphazardly away in a chaotic spray of liquid and shrapnel. More hands now, holding him without malice, restraining his flailing with care, soft voices whisper reassurances in his ears, in his head, almost driving out all other thoughts, almost drive away awareness of encroaching dark.

Axl sobs at the image, the dark like an enfolding monster from one of Slash's favored campy horrors, a hungry void sucking them in one by one till he was the only one left, too tired and empty to fight as it loomed over him, poised to drag him under.

The hands are soft, enfolding in their own way, one that doesn't leave him frozen with fear. The lips are soft too, and soothingly cool on his fevered skin. Bright, almost blinding light becomes a dim glow against his eyelids.

He feels bare, shivers at the feeling of vulnerability, exposure. Tender voices fill his mind, dry and warm and calming, easing the ache with words that fade before he can grasp them, commit them to his poetic memory.

Those cool lips meet his, and Axl finds himself frantic, reaching out with desperate arms, an insatiable mouth, wrapping around the body draping itself atop him. There's another body, slipping under his, strong and comforting arms pulling him close, a mouth trailing kisses along his shoulder, the feel of flannel and denim, soft and rough and hard in places anchoring him, giving him shelter from the void still trying to batter his soul to pieces.

Above him, there's a smooth and hungry mouth devouring him, inch by inch, strip by strip. A tongue that touches, laps, suckles, prods as it tastes every bit of his nakedness till his damp skin trembles with cold, and an aching, diamond-hard hunger. Hands that caress, roll, pull, spread, leave him writhing and arching, begging for more contact.

Axl's eyes are clenched shut, yet still drown in twin ice blue oceans that flood his kaleidoscope mind. His skin burns where cool hands brush it, and somewhere on the outside of him a mouth and tongue like silk work him ravenously, while insatiable weight and pressure spark lightning through his groin with every tap. He's dimly aware of his own cries, the keening wails and gibbering curses pulled out of him as he's brought to the excruciating edge of savage release again and again, only to be tortuously denied, becalmed, driven mad once more.

Time drifts, and his mind with it, awareness whittled down to blind, voracious need, a pressure building so intense his balls have surely become a grenade, threatening an explosion to leave him in pieces, strewn wet and red across the entire room. When the dark gods finally have mercy on him, he's not wrong, the gut-twisting climax a hurricane of lightning; sparks of pain and pleasure so intense his screams rattle the floor to ceiling windows, body arched like a bridge between two mouths locked so tightly on him it feels as though they stretch his skin taut, anchored by sharp pins.

He's sure he's seizing, his body ready to fly apart, taking his mind with it. Just before he passes out, piercing blue lights flood his brain, and the darkness within him recedes, pales, burning away like fog under the morning sun, leaving only traces of damp and a few echoes of soft grey behind, and a single word, at once bitterly ironic and desperately hopeful. "_Patience_."

............................................

The late morning sun is cooking him as it pours through the two-story bank of windows that face the eastern Cali mountains. Axl plants a hand over his face to shield his throbbing eyes, gradually becoming aware that his bare ass is laying sprawled out in the common area, though it feels like there's maybe a t-shirt or something covering his dignity, or what's left of it.

Sitting up slowly, Axl groans, tucking long strawberry strands behind an ear. He squints as he looks around, hoping no one's arrived yet and he can make it up to his bedroom to peel off the shirt he's quite sure has glued itself to his crotch with hard-dried jizz.

It takes a second pass to realize Duff is sitting right next to him, bottle in one hand and cigarette in the other. Duff's eyebrows are crawling up toward his hairline, eyes bright with humor as he meets Axl's gaze. Axl scowls, hand snaking out to grab the lit cigarette and taking a deep pull that leaves half of it ash.

"Wild night?"

Axl growls. Duff hands him the bottle as a peace offering.

As Axl takes a swig, Duff looks him over. "Haven't seen a hickey that dark in years. You could at least share the dirty details." Axl does a spit-take, whiskey spraying wide as he coughs and heaves. Luckily, Duff is off to his side and mostly out of the splash zone, laughing too much to be sore about it.

Swearing, the redhead holds the shirt in a death grip as he clambers over the couch, stomping towards the stairs, Duff's laughter trailing after him. He heads for the shower still clutching the shirt, knowing he'd snatch his crotch bald if he didn't soak it down first. Stopping a moment, he glared at the mirror and the dark purple bruise staining the juncture of his neck and shoulder, advertising his escapade to the world.

.......................................................

They finally make it to the studio, Axl with a high collared shirt and a scarf wrapped like a bandage around his neck, much to Duff's continued amusement. Everyone else is there and ready to go, though Slash is flying again, if the dreamy look and the way he's splayed across one of the lounge couches is any indication.

Scowling, the redhead moves to stand at the edge of the couch, looming vulture-like over the lead guitarist.

"Hey… Axl. We gonna…play?" Slash's quiet words slip slow and hazy from his full lips.

"We are. Are you?"

Axl kicks the couch with enough force to make Slash bounce, and the mocha-skinned man yelps and grabs at the cushions like the furniture was gonna buck him off. He sits up, rubbing the back of his head, just in time to see the singer storming off towards the sound booth. Duff gives his fellow guitarist a sympathetic shrug before trailing after Axl.

The afternoon is fraught with tension and conflict. None of the songs are finished, pieces of riffs and lines of lyrics are jarringly out of sync and apparently no one can craft a bridge to save their miserable lives. By five o'clock, Slash and Duff are crashing hard, several large and empty bottles scattered around their feet as their scattered instrumental ramblings rise and fall without regard for the rest of their bandmates.

Axl finally goes off, throwing an epic fit, complete with thrown bottles and (the cheaper) equipment, screaming vulgarities that make the windows rattle, and it's almost shocking they don't actually melt from the base vulgarities pouring out of him. Matt, Dizzy and Gilby decide to take a break, and, dodging missiles, slip away from ground zero.

Finally noticing half the band has vanished slows Axl's tirade, and he pauses, panting and glaring at Duff and Slash. He wants to scream at them until he knows they see how everything's falling apart. His fists itch to wail on them till they're free from the hold of the drugs and drink that dull them out, numbing the fierce passion that they used to have. He wants to shake them, hold them, beat them, cry on them, do whatever it takes to show them he cares, to find out if they still do too.

He stands, trembling in the aftermath of adrenaline, blinking too-moist eyes, arms crossed protectively, fingers digging deep into his own skin. They sit, sharing cigarettes and one more bottle, guitars resting at their feet, seemingly unconcerned, untouched, almost unaware that he's even still there.

"We're done. I'll have someone call you for the next rehearsal." Axl's voice is low and deep and soft, and he turns away without looking to see if they've heard him, heading out of the studio, waving and tossing an "I'll call you." over his shoulder at the trio chatting quietly in the outer sitting area.

The driver looks up as he dives into the back seat of the car. Hearing a mumbled "Home." he fires up the engine, pulling out and pointing the vehicle in the direction of the shining white house on the hill.

Barely a full day has passed, and Axl is right back where he started, hunched over his piano in the sterile silence of his fortress of solitude as night descends. Knowing he'll get nowhere with his music tonight, he pours a full glass of whiskey, drinking it in two long gulps.

He carries another full glass with him as he heads up to his bedroom, placing it on the nightstand and crawling under the covers. As he'd hoped, the amber liquid has dulled his racing mind, and he relaxes as he's finally able to drift away from the heartache the day has brought.

Deep in the night, Axl dreams of a pair of pale blue eyes, cool and clear and bottomless as icy mountain lakes, drawing him in till he's drowning in their depths. Sunk down deep, he's almost numb, the pain of caring so deeply for a fractured family that's crumbling to dust a hazy, distant feeling.

Cradled softly in his glacial dream-sanctuary, there's a sense this isn't just his own place of peace, that someone else is sharing the refuge, not demanding anything of him, just existing quietly in the same space. It's even more comforting, knowing he's not the only one that needs this distance, this shelter from the storms of life.

When Axl finally wakes, the day is still young, sun low over the eastern hills. The glow and the stillness of the house have a tranquility that's nourishing to his injured soul.

In some small measure, there's an ease, a patch of restoration inside him that wasn't there before. He lays in bed and watches the light travel over the room as the sun slowly rises, feeling as though there's a path to the future; that despite the trials surely to come, he'll find the patience he needs to see him through to the better, brighter day glinting on the far distant horizon.


	4. Headspace - 2005, Velvet Revolver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slash gets a wakeup call...

Ch. 4 - Headspace

Me  
I'm a man  
Who is trudging  
Best I can  
Through a minefield  
Built to blast  
Can I make it  
Will I last

Free my mind, levitate  
Don't let any of those fuckers in my headspace

Please  
Let me be  
No more questions  
No more needs  
You're the cancer  
You're the leech  
Sent to bleed me  
Of disease

Free my mind, levitate  
Don't let any of those fuckers in my headspace  
Let me go my own way  
Burn the rest of them that try to keep me enchained…

'Headspace' by Velvet Revolver

.................

Warnings: M/M pairings, multiple partners, explicit sex, drug and alcohol mention/abuse

.................

2005 – April, San Francisco, Velvet Revolver – Slash, Duff, Matt, Dave and Scott

Coming off a set was like coming down off a high, the buzzing energy and trance-like connection to the music leaking away the further he stepped from the stage. Slash sighed, pushing his sweat-soaked hair back a bit, wishing for his shades as he moved from the darker back-stage to the brightly lit halls that led to the changing rooms, Duff and the rest of the guys following in loose camaraderie.

They took just enough time to refresh a bit, wipe off the sweat, grab fresh shirts, before heading out en masse to the hit the after party. Gaggles of kids in hundred-dollar versions of street-rat gear ringed the path to the limo, screaming and writhing as they vied for the band's attention.

Boys and girls alike sported knock-off top hats and mirrored glasses, scattered through the crowd, right alongside suicide blondes with dark roots, and Slash counted at least a dozen sets of tits and lean, smooth chests flashed at them as they walked past, the owners hoping to score a wild night with men at least twice their age. He had to admit there were a few tasty choices, more than glad his favored aviators and loose curls made it virtually impossible to tell who or what he was looking at as he walked along.

Almost at the car, a small group caught his eye, and he frowned as a faint whiff of memory tickled at him. Three young men stood with measured ease, their nonchalance a jarring note in the sea of teenage hormonal frenzy. Two blondes and one with long, dark hair, smirking, smoking, all eyes locked directly on his despite the mirrored plastic barrier he wore.

Almost walking into Duff's back, he shook his head, and looking back, could no longer find them in the throng. Duff chuckled as Slash slid next to him in the limo's ample back seats.

"Got a little distracted, hmm? Not that I blame you…some nice racks on display out there."

Slash just shrugged, giving a dry chuckle back. "Yeah, looked like mostly store-bought though. I prefer 'em a little more real."

Scott giggled unnaturally, drawing wary looks from the rest of the band. "Little bounce 'n jiggle when you're pounding 'em, yeah?"

The rest of the guys eyed each other, smiling uncomfortably and nodding. Scott had been in decent shape through the set, but you didn't have to have known him long to know he'd been high off his ass, motions jerky and eyes glazed as he sang.

The ride to the hotel was blessedly quick, the conversation along the way starting a little awkward but getting easier as they focused on the concert itself. There were a number of fans that had caught everyone's eye, and a few stumbles, both physical and musical, they teased each other about.

The party was lively enough, even though most of the band was playing it straight. Management kept the groupies, both male and female, to just a small gathering, leaving time for more shop talk and winding down with crew and roadies.

Making it to the hotel in relatively good spirits, Slash headed straight to the bar, grabbing a bottle of red and a glass and looking for a place to light as he poured. Duff sat with him and a few of the venue crew that had been invited, swapping tales of cranky equipment and capricious musicians for a while.

Something jangled at Duff's nerves tonight, making relaxation elusive. Sensing someone staring, he glanced around the room, his roving gaze caught and held by an attractive young man. The youth had silken, ebony hair that cascaded down his shoulders and over the vest he wore.

Duff felt uneasy under the regard of the intense young man, his look a little too serious for the usual starry-eyed wanna-be musician type, making the boy seem older than he appeared at first glance. Shrugging it off, the blonde bassist got up and wandered away, cycling to another room, another conversation.

Matt and Dave were chatting up some very pretty young ladies in very tiny tank tops that were clearly enraptured by talking to actual Rock Stars™, and Duff couldn't help but smirk watching them. It didn't seem like it'd turn into much, but even if they did get lucky it wouldn't hurt anyone.

The party wound down quickly, given that Slash was the only one really drinking and there wasn't much else going on besides the remains of a decent buffet that pretty much everyone had ravaged. Scott had disappeared and no one wanted to kill the pleasant evening by finding out what he was up to, preferring to believe he'd show at the next rehearsal and not just turn up dead.

Duff sighed, leaning against a wall as his gaze slid unfocused over the dregs of the party. Keeping track of Scott's status and whereabouts was frustrating, and as pointless as running on a treadmill. Even dealing with Slash when he was plastered left him feeling worn thin, far more often than he'd like to admit.

It's not like he didn't understand, he knew all too well the siren call of oblivion coming from the bottom of a bottle or syringe. Without the paradigm shift caused by his own excruciating brush with death, he'd likely be just as wasted as his friends.

Some days being around either them left him with a hollow, brittle feeling, an aching loss for something that hasn't disappeared just yet, but is still beyond reach. Cocooned in their substance-fueled haze Scott and Slash were drifting away.

Slash at least seemed able, as always, to hit his marks when it was performance time. Then again, the way music poured from the lead guitarist's fingers as naturally as most people breathed, it didn't seem possible for him not to.

Giving up on the night, Duff waved at the crowd and took his leave. He'd forgotten all about the young man that bothered him earlier, till he saw the boy leaning against a wall near the elevators as he made his way to his room.

The young man was nearly as tall as he was, head lifting, curtain of long hair parting as Duff walked past. He fell in to step with the musician, matching his stride with casual ease.

Frowning, Duff paused, turning to face the young fan. An unfavorable thought regarding the security detail flashed through his mind, certainly the boy shouldn't have been able to just hang around unescorted on their floor.

"Look man, I appreciate your interest, but now's not the time. Why don't you see one of the staff, let 'em know I told 'em to get you… a shirt… or some…thing? ... "

Duff paused as deep umber eyes met his topaz ones, his words trailing off as he lost himself in the shorter man's gaze.

"Weren't you going to invite me back?"

Somehow, the young man's regard intensified, though amusement glinted from the mahogany depths.

Duff blinked, mind suddenly slow and thick. "Oh…yeah? Yeah, I guess I was, ah, um…"

"Dwayne."

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Dwayne. Dwayne! Yeah, man, come on back, let's hang for a while…"

Duff laid his arm over the other man's muscular shoulders, pulling him along, wondering how he'd forgotten Dwayne was waiting for him. Opening the door to the room, he gestured at the other man, who'd stood back as Duff fumbled with the room key.

"Come on in, man. Make yourself comfortable."

The darker man's smirk turned into a full-blown smile, eyes flashing with humor.

"Thanks."

He walked smoothly past Duff, glancing around the room with only passing interest before turning back to stare at his host. The tall blonde closed the door, losing his train of thought as he faced his handsome guest.

There was something about the young man, a vague familiarity that poked at Duff's brain. A haze was settling into his thoughts, leaving him feeling like he was on the downside of a high despite being clean for years. The bassist frowned, vainly trying to clear his mind.

"Do I know you?"

A hungry smile graced full lips, brightening Dwayne's chiseled features. The image of a panther ready to pounce flashed in Duff's mind, sending a jolt of excitement down his spine. A cool hand cupped his chin, eyes dark as midnight drawing the blonde in.

"Would you like to?"

....................................

Back in the party suite, Slash was settling in, happily ignoring pretty much everybody in favor of the swiftly emptying bottles of wine stacked by his side of the couch. Half-listening to the conversations going on around him, half sunk into the music playing in his head, he missed the young man moving in to sit next to him.

He was aware enough to know Scott had wandered off, probably topping off the buzz he'd hit the stage with. His stomach clenched, sick with worry about the future of the band, the future of the friendships and connections he had with his bandmates.

Time for some more wine, to drown out the pain of uncertainty, the fear that once again, everything was falling to shit. He knew it wouldn't really help, hiding his feelings behind the alcohol, he just really wanted to enjoy the high spots while there still were some, before the crash they all knew was coming finally hit.

Feeling the couch dip and bounce, Slash looked up from his nearly empty glass to see a boy had plopped down close enough that his leg brushed the guitarist's own. He had short blonde hair almost as curly as Slash's, and a knowing grin beneath hooded sea-green eyes.

Slash raised his glass in tipsy salute, and the young blonde's smile widened. The guitarist could swear the boy batted his lashes, but that could just have been the room swaying as the alcohol took over.

Glancing around the room, he noticed the band had mostly retired to their rooms, and the idea suddenly seemed like a very good one to the wild-haired musician. He stood unsteadily, and the boy made a silent offer of assistance, one arm outstretched as he sidled close.

_Fuck it, why not?_ Slash nodded his appreciation, throwing a heavy arm over the kid's shoulders, barely noticing the way the younger man slipped an arm around his back to grip low on the rocker's hip.

The pair made their way out of the suite, Slash waving and grinning at crew and roadies as they passed. As they made it to the elevator, another man joined them, slipping in with a smirk and a wink.

He looked about the same age as the boy under Slash's arm, though he felt older. With short cropped pale hair, and a white t-shirt and jeans, he was like a relic from the fifties.

Stumbling out of the elevator towards his room, the musician pulled his staunch supporter along with him, the James Dean look alike following unnoticed. Making the room, Slash felt the young man step back.

"Hey, what gives? Come in and chill for a while."

The curly blonde flashed a grin. "Okay if my friend joins us?" Over his shoulder the other blonde leaned against the wall, smoking a cigarette. Looking up at being mentioned, his wide smile was full of charm.

"Oh, yeah. Come on, friend, it's cool."

They entered the suite, Slash making a bee-line for his stash of bottles in the kitchenette. He grabbed a few extra glasses and laid them out.

"You want some?"

The two boys glanced at each other, smirking in tandem. Spike-hair spoke up first.

"Sure. Looks like you have enough to spare."

Slash laughed. "Yeah, well, it helps get me through the day."

Pale blue eyes captured his, freezing him where he stood.

"What about the nights?" A voice soft and seductive washed over Slash, setting his heart thumping so hard in his chest he was surprised the defib didn't kick in.

He reached to push up his shades, only to realize they were still in place. The pale blonde smiled, gaze still locked on his own, despite the glasses, and Slash shuddered at the feeling of vulnerability.

His hand dropped a little, knocking the bottle he was holding against the countertop, loud enough to make Slash jump and break him out of his trance. He focused on pouring, setting the bottle down carefully and gesturing to the glasses.

"Help yourselves, ah…"

"David" said the spike-haired man. "And this is my brother, Marko."

"Cool. Nice to meet you both." Slash picked up his own glass in mock toast. "So, you big fans or something?"

"Or something." David smirked, lifting a glass and taking a sip of wine. "Been following your work since the beginning."

Slash snorted. "Really? What, your parents get laid to my stuff?"

David and Marko both laughed deeply, sharing an amused glance. "Definitely not. We're a bit older than we look."

Eyeing them both, Slash laughed himself, waving his glass at Marko. "That's good to hear, 'cause he barely looks legal."

Rather than be annoyed, Marko smiled gently, glancing up from under half-lowered lids. Slash was still for a moment, feeling his cock twitch as he stared at the youth.

Marko grabbed a glass, and the guitarist watched in rapt attention as his lips met the rim, the way his throat bobbed slowly as he swallowed, an almost imperceptible hitch of breath from the dark-haired man as the boy's tongue darted out, catching a stray drop on his lower lip. Sea-green eyes met rich earth brown, sparkling with a promise that left the rocker's throat suddenly dry.

A dry chuckle broke the spell, and Slash turned to face David, cheeks flushing at the wicked grin on the blonde's face.

"Why don't we get more comfortable?"

That velvet voice rolling over Slash didn't so much quell the spark Marko had ignited in the tawny-skinned man as fan it brightly. The guitarist licked parched lips, nodding almost imperceptibly.

"Yeah…go sit down, I'll join you."

As the two blondes took their glasses and went to get comfortable in the sitting area, Slash went and grabbed one of his acoustic guitars, a last-ditch effort to put a little space between him and these enticing young men.

Settling down on the far end of a couch, he set the instrument in his lap, already feeling more at ease with the familiar weight of it on his legs, the twang of strings under his fingers. He strummed it idly, chords bleeding into riffs as his mind shifted to musical expression of his mood.

Slash closed his eyes, letting music pour out, feeling it betray his feelings as the melody came out in turns both slow and grinding then slick and dirty. He almost stopped playing, faltering for a moment, a sudden wave of dizziness set his head bobbing unsteadily, dissipating as swiftly as it had hit, leaving him more determined to let the music flow as it willed.

Marko shifted, moving closer till his leg lay against Slash's. David slid out of the chair he'd been in to sit on the arm of the couch, light hand coming to rest on the musician's far shoulder.

Slash shuddered at their touch, fingers pulling low growls out of the instrument laying across his tightening groin. When Marko's fingers started sliding up his thigh, the guitar wasn't the only thing growling.

Cool hands caressed a tan cheek, gently removing the aviators. Slash blinked, tilting his head away and back again as he continued playing, shying away from meeting Marko's hungry gaze.

Marko continued to knead Slash's leg with gentle pressure, sending sparks right to his crotch. The music halted sharply when a gentle hand lifted his wild hair, lips and blunt teeth grazing softly along the back of his neck, leaving the musician groaning, grip on the guitar turning rigidly white-knuckled.

Those wicked lips brushed his ear, a surprisingly cool tongue caressing the outer shell as Slash sucked in a sharp breath, shifting in his seat.

"Look at Marko" a voice like smoke over gravel urged the musician. Reluctantly, he looked up at the curly blonde, only to be set aflame by the ravenous gaze coming from under hooded storm green eyes.

"Go ahead, you know he wants you."

The words rumbled through Slash, tearing down his resistance, making his fingers twitch, body stretch and cock turn more than half-hard in his tight leather pants. That lecherous mouth was moving again, nipping along his neck and short-circuiting his thoughts.

Marko skimmed off his band shirt, smile going wide as he watched the dark-haired man track down his body. Reaching over, he pried the guitar gently away, laying it carefully on the low table nearby.

Like a prowling cat, the boy crawled up and sat in Slash's lap, grinding narrow hips down with wicked intent. The move had his target groaning, muscular arms sliding up the pale skin of Marko's back.

Seizing the moment, the curly blonde dove at Slash's generous lips, down his throat, under a swiftly rucked up shirt with measured passion, a well-banked fire lapping over terra cotta skin, igniting everything it touched. Any reticence Slash had was long gone, the young man clearly knew what he was about, all that pale peach flesh under guitar-callused fingers begging to be touched, tasted, marked.

Behind him, hands slid up his back, gripping the hem of the rocker's shirt to help lift it off. Marko continued his path downwards, making short work of button and zipper, pushing Slash's leather pants down solid hips to let his thick, uncut cock spring free.

Slash moaned when Marko dipped to taste the head of his dick, laying a heavy hand down to clutch golden curls. David's hands were wandering, twisting pebbled nipples almost too hard, scratching lightly at tawny chest and sides with sharp nails and soft fingertips in turns, as Slash squirmed between the two men.

Marko lifted his head, fiery gaze pinning Slash as he dove in for another kiss, hand tugging gently at a rock-hard, weeping cock, eagerly swallowing ragged gasps coming from the darker man. Teasing lips brushed the back of Slash's neck again, kissing a path to an earlobe, nipping carefully around the dangling golden hoop attached.

"Care to take this to the bedroom?"

That gravel purr broke through single-minded entanglement. Panting heavily as he came up for air, Slash nodded, carding Marko's curls as he held the young man close.

"Yeah." He swallowed thickly, observing Marko's wicked grin. "Let's do that."

Marko was first to stand, hand out to help Slash stand as he pulled his pants back up. A cool hand on the middle of his back brushed down along the waistband, dipping under teasingly.

"Shoulda just let 'em drop."

Slash snorted, giving a quick shake of his hips as David followed him towards the bedroom. There was a loud crack as David smacked his ass, and Slash stopped dead, turning slowly, chest heaving slightly.

David's smirk turned to a devilish smile. He moved in close to the guitarist, hand snaking up into wild curls to fist and tug not entirely gently. Slash grunted at the sensation, pupils dilating.

"Oh, how lovely." David purred, grip tightening, watching intently as Slash's lips parted in a heated gasp. "That wasn't a request. Drop 'em. Now." His voice dropped lower, a sudden force behind the growl.

Slash licked dry lips, breath going shallow. His hands went to his waist, to remove the offending item, sliding it down, thick hair falling out of David's loosened grasp. As he stepped out of pants and shoes, David moved back in, nails scratching lightly down the guitarist's back, sharp eyes flashing as Slash shivered under his touch.

"Beautiful."

The rocker glanced over his shoulder, gaze meeting David's only briefly before dropping. A cool hand caressed the rocker's ass, kneading gently.

"Come along, someone's waiting for you."

Slash followed David's lead, the two walking into the bedroom of the suite, to find a naked Marko draped elegantly across a very large bed, the sheets already turned down, inviting smile on a devilish cherub's face.

"Go ahead, he's all yours."

David's voice was soft in Slash's ear, and the darker man crawled slowly up the bed, crouching over Marko. He dove into cupid bow lips, and, feeling the youth's hands tangle in his hair, the rocker broke to gasp for breath before trailing sloppy kisses down a graceful neck, attempting to leave marks in the cool, creamy skin.

Marko whined, curling up to grind into Slash's groin, the heavier man answering with a groan of his own at the contact. Mapping further, the black-haired man found his prize, starting in to tease and lap at a dick as sleek and picturesque as any carved from marble.

The leaner man cried out, bucking into Slash's tongue, fingers threading through wild, midnight curls. Slash wore his own wicked grin for a moment, then leaned in and swallowed the blonde down to the root, till his nose was nestled in bright, golden curls and the scent of musk, coupled with something earthy and sweet, was almost thick enough to taste.

Just as he was settling in to a rhythm that set Marko to twitch and coil, he felt a firm touch on his ass, hands kneading, caressing, dipping down to slide along the length of his cock. He groaned around Marko's dick, only to yelp in surprise as a tongue laved his entrance, blunt teeth scraping up his taint.

Strong hands spread his thighs wider, Slash shaking with sudden rush of desire at the sting and crack of a heavy smack against his ass. Another spank had his eyes watering, cock swinging heavy and hard, hands griping Marko's hips with bruising strength as his mouth clamped down on the youth's silken dick.

David's vulgar mouth was back, aggressive tongue breaching the musician now writhing at the carnal assault. Marko curled his hips in a slow thrust despite the fierce hold Slash maintained, gasping as the rocker sucked him down again.

Caught up, Slash yielded to the moment, awash in the pleasures washing over and through him; sensitive flesh ardently invaded, succulent skin of the sinuous youth squirming under his hands and mouth, sting of his scalp as hands fisted in his hair, the burn and ache of abused ass cheeks gripped and kneaded by rough hands.

The group pulled apart briefly, greased fingers igniting buried nerves, slicking up weeping, rock hard cocks, till they joined again, slotting together like perfectly fitted puzzle pieces. David set the pace, driving Slash forward into the breathtaking young man quivering and moaning beneath him.

Slash felt feverish, skin ablaze and core alight with a searing hunger he'd not felt in years. Sandwiched between the two blondes, at once enveloped and filled so completely, he shook with frantic need, the desire for release and for drowning forever in the moment warring within him.

A nearly brutal yank on wild, inky hair coupled with an open-handed smack on dusky skin left the musician trembling on the brink, mouth agape, piercing keen spilling out of full lips. Beneath him, Marko bucked up, dragging sharp fingernails down the rocker's back, bright, delicious pain lancing through him, and Slash was lost, climax slamming into his gut harder than David's thrusts, wringing deep wails from him with each pulse of his cock.

He felt his partners following him over the edge, Marko's body squeezing almost painfully around his over-sensitive dick, slick feel of cum filling him as David's cock emptied. They both had latched onto his neck as they came, the sting of hard love bites leaving his overworked nerves jerking and twitching, and he mewled, struggling weakly as he was pinned between them.

A mouth lifted, and a cool hand stroking a flushed cheek had Slash cracking his eyelids, meeting a sea-green gaze that held soft amusement. Like the deep ocean, those eyes pulled him under, and he swore he saw gold before he blacked out.

As the aging musician slumped gently across his chest, Marko chuckled, carding through curly hair and placing a light kiss on the man's forehead before rolling the unconscious man to the side. David was already siting back on his knees, putting himself back together, cigarette lit and tucked in smirking lips.

"He's holding up pretty well, considering."

David nodded at Marko's words, exhaling slowly as he pondered the target of their night's amusement.

"Almost. I think our friend here needs a little nudge in the right direction. It'd be a shame to lose him now."

He waited till Marko got up off the bed to move forward, carefully sliding the musician up towards the pillows, getting up himself to pull covers up and tuck the man in. Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, he drew light fingers along the curve of the sleeping man's cheek and chin, enjoying the bristle of rough beard, cataloging the changes age and hard life had wrought.

Marko sat on the opposite edge, now dressed, watching David's tender ministrations.

"What's your plan?"

A wolfish smile grew on David's lips. "Time to scare our man straight."

Marko's eyes flashed gold for a moment, his smile matching David's as he nibbled absently on a thumbnail with sharp teeth.

All through the night, Slash tossed and turned, whimpering softly, caught in a looping gallery of nightmare images. Creatures out of his favorite horror movies, monsters and demons threatened and chased him, leaving him rent, dismembered, torn apart again and again, injured body oozing not blood but gallons upon gallons of red wine. Over and over, he drowned in watery cabernet, lungs choking on ruby liquid.

Dawn finally broke, and with it the dark spell he struggled under. Shocking awake at the release of the last tortuous vignette, he sat bolt upright, panting hard, hand on his chest to will his wildly beating heart to calm. The sky behind the dark curtains was just beginning to pale, and he looked around to see if he was alone.

The rooms seemed quiet and still, no one in the bed and no noise from the outer room. Stretching slowly, he winced as the aches and pains of the night before made themselves known.

Feeling sore and sticky and too strung out by a hard night's drinking and the shadows of nightmares to want to get out of bed and face anything, he groaned, pondering if it was worth getting up to see if there was anything left of any of the open bottles he'd left in the outer room. His stomach clenched painfully, and he laid back down, curling around the roiling in his gut.

"_No more_…" he whimpered around the pain, hoping this wasn't a precursor of another trip to a hospital. He was so tired of dealing with all of it, tired of feeling so dead and numb he couldn't even get up, didn't even want to, to play or get to practice, so afraid the music playing in his head would fade away if he wasn't able to pick up a guitar and bring it to life.

Tears fell unbidden, coursing down tan cheeks to pool in rumpled bedsheets as Slash pulled the covers up over himself, hiding the pain and shame he felt away. Shaky breathing gave way to shuddering, quiet sobs, finally fading as sleep reclaimed him once more.

.........................

Duff whined, hands kneading Dwayne's back as the dark-haired man rocked into him. The young man had him pinned effortlessly against the wall, strong hands pressing long thighs up, bending the musician nearly in half as the blonde was fucked slow and deep.

Dwayne, nestled against Duff's chest as the rocker held on to him, attacked every inch of skin in reach, leaving his partner's torso covered in a scatter of red and purple marks. The blonde musician writhed, deliciously tortured by the way painfully pleasurable nips and hard, sucking bites sent shocks straight to his neglected cock.

A roll of Dwayne's hips set Duff throwing his head back to hit the wall hard, vainly attempting to curl hips in, held ruthlessly on the edge by his beautiful tormentor, abdomen quivering in pent up need. Soft lips pressed against his throat, clamping down and sucking hard.

Dwayne sped up his pace, ramming hard enough to leave skid marks on Duff's back as he was bounced harshly against the wall. Duff was beyond caring, hands gripping raven locks tight, grunts shifting to high moans as climax loomed.

Shifting, Dwayne braced both Duff's legs with one arm, changing the angle and allowing him to grasp the taller man's aching cock, rubbing roughly in time with his sharp thrusts. The blonde gave a piercing wail, painting them both with a sticky fountain of release. Dwayne followed, slowing to a rolling grind as he came, filling Duff with his spend.

Duff trembled as he was set down, legs wobbly as a newborn foal, and Dwayne chuckled deeply, hefting him with ease. Laying the tall man on the nearby bed, he watched him crawl shakily towards the middle, climbing in once the musician had settled.

An inky curtain fell across Duff's vision as Dwayne leaned over him, planting slow, wet kisses along the line of the bassist's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck. In post-orgasmic haze, Duff felt his mind go thick, barely noticing the sting of pain in his neck before he surrendered to unconsciousness.

............................

It was nearly noon when Duff woke, smiling and stretching as memories of the night before came trickling back, along with the realization he was a bit sticky and sore. He sat up, looking to see if the young man had stuck around.

Not seeing the youth, he frowned, getting up to check his wallet and jewelry, relaxing when nothing was missing. Heading to the bathroom with intent to shower, he stopped cold as he caught a glance of himself in the mirror.

His chest might as well have been a polka-dot shirt for all the love bites scattered over it, and there was a huge purple hickey nearly the size of his palm up by his throat. He leaned on the sink, swearing softly and fighting the urge to toss something at the betraying image before him.

What the everlasting fuck was he going to tell his wife? Maybe he could come up with some reason to stay away from home for a few days, till the bruising faded?

Getting in the shower, he decided he'd hit up Slash. Maybe Scott needed some babysitting or something, but he was sure his best wingman could come up with suggestions to help him out of the mess he'd just made.

............................

Slash woke up the second time that day to a heavy pounding noise. At first, he thought it was just a hangover, and he wasn't entirely wrong as the room swayed nauseatingly when he sat up. The noise continued though, and it hit him it was probably someone at the outer door.

Making his wobbly way to the door, getting slightly steadier as he went, he opened it a crack to see who it was. Finding Duff on the other side, he relaxed, waving the tall man in and closing the door behind him.

Looking at the state Slash was in, Duff snickered. "Looks like we both had a great night."

Slash cracked a lopsided smile, huffing a laugh. "Yeah. Least it was, right up till I passed out."

Duff sighed. "I was checking in on ya. Something you need?"

Slash shook his head, then ran a hand through disheveled curls.

"Nah…I've actually been thinking…I wanna go back to rehab, for good this time."

The look he gave Duff was shaky, full of vulnerability and hope. Duff gave him a gentle smile, reaching out to put a supporting hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I believe you, man. You want me to stick around, come visit you while you're in?"

Slash nodded, timid smile gracing his lips. "That'd be…I'd really like that."

"You set a date? Your lady's gonna want to know."

"No, I… what is today, Tuesday? Friday, man. I'm gonna make sure I'm in by Friday."

"How about you and I stay together till then, make sure nothing bad happens?"

Slash's smile was blinding, and if his eyes glistened a little wetly, well, Duff didn't care to make any mention of it. The naked man reached to throw his arms around his tall friend, but Duff just laughed and backed up.

"I love you too, man, but damn you stink!"


	5. November Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2017 – Sacramento, November – GNR's 'Not in this Lifetime' tour
> 
> …and so the end begins…

Ch. 5 – November Rain

…And when your fears subside, and shadows still remain

I know that you can love me when there's no one left to blame

So never mind the darkness, we still can find a way

'Cause nothin' lasts forever, even cold November rain…

November Rain, Guns 'N Roses

….................................

Warnings: explicit M/M multi-pairings, mild drug use

Acknowledgement to: Peter S Beagle and 'The Last Unicorn'; Taika Waititi and 'What We Do in the Shadows' for borrowed lines. Additional lyrics: 'Rocket Queen' by Guns 'N Roses

All works belong to their respective owners, save the concept of the AU. This work is for entertainment purposes only.

…...............

2017 – Sacramento, November – GNR's 'Not in this Lifetime' tour

Deep in his groove, his deft fingers strolling through a solo, Slash glanced up from under the protective curtain of curls, letting his thousand-yard stare roll over the teaming stadium crowd. A flash of pale hair bleached white by the stage lights' glare and icy blue eyes caught his attention, belonging to a young man standing calmly at the edge of the floor barrier, burning cigarette held in a smile that gave no fucks for smoking rules.

There was something familiar about the fan, bothersome enough to shake him out of his zone as the song progressed. Then the kid next to ice man turned his way, and he nearly tripped over his damn guitar as a recognition hit him square between the eyes.

Slash felt Axl's steadying hand on his shoulder, and he nodded in distracted thanks. Laughing sea-green eyes were locked on his, and memories of a wild night over a decade ago flooded his mind _-the feel of a young man crafted like a Greek statue under his hands, smooth body a tight sheath around his dick-_ left him stunned and rock hard as he struggled to keep pace with the song.

Finishing a set of lines in the song, Axl slung an arm around Slash, leaning in to speak directly in his ear, swooping the mike dramatically out of pickup range with his far hand.

"You good, man? We could have Mel and Duff hash something out after this if you need a break."

Rolling into another short solo, the wild-haired man gave a slow shake before bending over the guitar in his hands, refocusing his eyes on the stage floor and cranking through with flourish. Axl gave him a quick squeeze before dancing off, smiling for the crowd as he launched into the last verse.

...................................................

Concert over, the large group made a slow path for backstage, smiling and happy, the wild energy of tonight's crowd leaving them all buzzing pleasantly. Axl chatted with Mel, praising her skills and quick pickup when Slash went wobbly near the end of the set list.

Slash rolled his eyes behind his shades, a smile twitching full lips.

"Shut it, old man. I didn't need any help."

Behind him, Duff snorted. "Really? From where I was it looked like you were stroking out. Sounded like it too."

"Eh, fuck you."

Axl chimed in, eyes bright with mischief. "Well, you know, performance issues. Bound to happen sooner or later…"

"All right motherfucker, you asked for it."

Slash slung an arm around Axl's neck, punching him in the back playfully, no real strength behind it. Axl squawked dramatically.

"HELP! You all saw it, he attacked me!"

"Sure did, elder abuse if ever I saw it."

"See…WHAT? Fuck you, Duff. Elder abuse my pasty white ass."

"I mean, sure…if that's what you're in to these days…"

Now everyone was laughing, Mel grabbing on to Frank's arm and pulling him along.

"Frank! Frannnkk! Get me out of here before I see something even brain bleach won't erase."

"As the lady requests." Frank chuckled deeply, letting the tiny blue-haired keyboardist drag him away.

"Chickens!" Axl called teasingly as the pair picked up their pace.

"Asshole!"

"That's 'Axl'."

"That's too much sausage is what that is. Get bent somewhere I'm not, brah!" Mel called out, leaning hard on Frank, nearly bent over with giggles.

As the gang separated to clean up and gather their stuff, Axl slung an arm around Slash, drawing the guitarist close.

"Seriously, man…you okay? Was it your heart again?"

Slash shook his head. "Nah, I'm good, Axl. Just someone in the crowd distracted me and I lost my footing. No worries."

Axl gave him an appraising look, like he was weighing the truth behind the words. Satisfied, the redhead chuckled, patting the guitarist on the back.

"Must have been seriously hot property to trip the mighty Slash during a song. Shoulda asked 'em back. Or did you?"

Slash laughed, shaking his curls as he pulled out of Axl's grip. "Not this time. Maybe at our next show."

"Whatever does it for ya. See you at the limo."

…....................................................

The group met back up to climb into the waiting limo bus that took them to their hotel and the low-key madness that awaited in the after party suite.

The trip was quick enough, everyone making light talk at first. More than a few still ribbed Slash about his stumble, till he broke out receipts on all of them, setting the whole bus roaring, half in indignation and half in hysterics.

Arriving at the party, the band dispersed, looking for food and friends. Axl and Slash wound up sitting together, chowing down as crew and staff and VIPs all floated through, chatting them up.

There were even a few celebrities hanging around, some of the younger set basking in the notoriety of being in proximity to 'The Most Dangerous Band in the World'™ and hanging with musicians from the original lineup.

Axl sat drinking from a water bottle when someone caught his eye. The young man had short cropped blonde hair, a smirk and a stare that bordered on stalkerish, leaning casually against the far wall, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. He seemed oddly familiar, and it was more bothersome than it should have been that Axl couldn't place where he's seen him before.

A younger man joined the first, the two dressed similarly in deeply faded band shirts and ragged jeans. The sense of familiarity grew, a discord that was as unsettling as it was intriguing. As Axl sat pondering, Slash suddenly spat his drink, coughing a broad spray that hosed the coffee table the singer had just put his water down on.

Turning toward his friend, Axl laughed as he clapped the shaggy haired man on the back.

"Easy there, old man! Can you imagine the headlines if you died choking on red bull? You'd never live it down."

Slash coughed again, waving in the direction Axl had been looking.

"What is it?"

"Did you see them?"

"See who, Slash?"

"The two kids."

"I saw a couple of kids checking us out, yeah. What about it?"

Slash relaxed a little. "You did see them."

"Yeah, I guess. So?"

"I swear I …met those two before…" He looked uncomfortable, staring at his feet, one hand scratching idly at the opposite arm. "That was like twelve years ago though…"

"Twelve years, hmm? Blessed with baby faces I guess." Axl looked at Slash thoughtfully. "Did they do something to you?"

"Ah…" Slash sighed. "Yeah. They, we…did…" The guitarist still couldn't seem to meet Axl's gaze.

"Oh…like that, hmm?" The singer's eyes were bright with mirth. "Here I'd almost forgot you swung both ways…"

"Suck it, Rose."

Axl laughed out loud, then leaned in close to wild, dark curls. "Pretty sure that was my line most of the time…"

"Bastard."

"True. What's your point?

Slash just shrugged.

"Hey, easy there, Slasher, it's all good." Axl rubbed his friend's back gently.

Slash still seemed uneasy, scanning the crowd, the only tell the slight movement of his head, his eyes still hidden behind mirrored glasses. Axl watched him a moment.

"You wanna blow this place, maybe come up to my suite and hang for a while?"

Slash finally turned towards his friend. "Watch some TV maybe?"

Axl chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure we can find you some big titty anime porn or something."

"Twisted fucker." Slash laughed. "Like I'm the only one rooting for the monsters when they bang."

Axl grinned wickedly, winking. "Come along, asshole."

….............................

Duff meandered aimlessly for a while, chatting idly with a few of the rich and famous, discussing his books and financial column and making plans for interviews that might or might not actually happen. Talking with a producer, he found his mind wandering, scanning the room with half an eye.

A well-built man with waist length ebony hair caught his wandering eye, and something pushed at his memory. As if on cue, the youth turned, eyes locking on his, sly smile gracing delicate lips.

A memory burned through Duff, hitting him between the eyes and legs simultaneously. The tall blonde froze, can of sparkling water dropping from a slack grip to bounce and splash on the carpet at his feet.

Next to him, the producer made some kind of noise, but Duff was already on the move, tracking like a hound to find the youth that haunted his fevered dreams more than a decade ago. He stalked across the room, but there was no trace of bronze eyes or that midnight curtain of silk.

Making a circuit through the rooms, Duff had a fruitless search for the object of his fascination. What he did find was Axl and Slash, making their way through the crowds, waving but not stopping as they headed for the doors. He fell in line with them, talking as they walked down the hall.

"Where we headed?"

Axl grinned. "Away from here."

"Suits me."

The trio made it up to Axl's suite, sighing with relief as they flopped down in the sitting area. Duff and Slash sprawled over the couch, legs crossing over each other as they stretched out, while Axl commandeered an oversized chair to drape himself across.

Reaching out to grab the remote, he glanced at his friends.

"So, what'll it be? Sports? Boinking Babes? The latest tellanovella?"

"Well, I did want to know if Tina ever found out who the father was…"

Axl grabbed the pillow from behind his back, heaving it in Duff's general direction and cackling at the theatrical 'Oof' that followed.

"All right…sports or tits? I know Slash is 'up' for either."

"Fuck off, man, so are you."

"What's your call, Duffer?"

"I dunno, how 'bout a regular movie? We can always switch up later."

"If we must." Axl sighed dramatically. He started to flip through the channels, pausing as a furry Gary Oldman ravished a scantily clad redhead on a garden bench while Winona Ryder looked on.

"There's your tits for ya."

They all laugh, Axl lifting the clicker to move on when Slash grunted.

"Hey, leave it here. This is a good one."

"You would say that, Slasher." The singer rolled his eyes but settled back in the chair to get more comfortable.

"Hope we're not interrupting something important."

The trio whipped their heads around to find four young men making their way towards them from the direction of the balcony, all broad smiles as they arranged themselves behind the musicians.

Duff was stunned silent at the reappearance of his dark-haired obsession, hazel eyes locked on the rich earthy gaze of the young man leaning casually on the sofa back above him. Focused so intently, he missed the shaggy blonde that snuck up, throwing arms around him from behind and leaning over his shoulder.

"DUDE! That show was rockin'! YOW!"

The blood froze in Duff's veins, strangled noise escaping him, and Axl turned towards the pair, looking pensively at the two blondes. Duff pulled away frantically, earning a sad whine from the young man as he scrambled off the couch to stand between his friends, panting hard.

Axl put a steadying hand on Duff's leg. He and Slash sat up, the red head gazing back and forth at all the young men with concern.

"I know you. How do I know you?"

Duff piped up, voice shaky and rough. "It's not possible. You can't be the same kid, that was thirty years ago!"

Axl turned to look up at his friend just as the pale blonde he's seen earlier at the party started slow-clapping with heavy handed sarcasm.

"Nice to know somebody remembers the good old days. What about you, Red? You figured it out yet?"

Axl frowned, but Duff was speaking frantically. "You gotta tell me you remember – these guys were the bikers that helped us out at that beach gig!"

Slash had been quiet, staring at the youthful man with curly blonde hair. His interest was returned in spades, green eyes dancing, a mischievous smile gracing delicate lips.

Duff's exclamations drew his attention away, and he finally looked at the others. The sarcastic blonde he remembered very well, but the other two weren't as familiar. Then again, the likelihood he'd remember anybody he'd met briefly several decades ago, if Duff was right, was slim to none. He'd lost a lot of memories to the haze of heroin.

Axl stared at the pale blonde, face tight, hand on the arm of the chair gripping hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

"You – you keep showing up… David. Who the hell are you?"

David's grin was a little too toothy to look anything but wicked.

"You're a smart man, Axl. Don't you see what's going on?"

Axl shook his head, though his eyes never left David's. "You've been following us since our first gigs…you've barely changed at all."

Now all the young men were grinning, the look more predatory than friendly. The shaggy blonde plopped himself down next to Slash, making the guitarist flinch and jump.

"Aww…relax dude, I won't bite…yet."

Slash leaned away, tawny skin going ashen.

"Smooth as always, Paul." David drawled.

Axl snarled. "Stay away from him."

"Take it easy, Red. We're not here to hurt anyone."

"What do you mean? Who are you?"

David pouted comically, nodding towards the tv. "You really need it spelled out?"

The three men glanced for a moment at the tv, and the movie that was still playing. Gary Oldman was hugging Winona to his chest as she licked up a thin line of blood.

"No fucking way." Slash was the first to speak, eyes going wide.

The young men laughed.

"Fucking yes way, dude." Paul leaned back, lighting up fat joint.

He offered it around, Axl and his friends turning him down with faint shakes of their heads. Shrugging he took a deep pull, holding it for far longer than should be possible, slow, tense minutes ticking away as an amused smile grew wide across his face.

"Enough, Paul."

At David's admonition, he winked at Slash, blowing a thick and perfect smoke ring in Axl's direction, not even bothering to take another breath after.

The smoke broke over the redhead, the sweet scent heavy and cloying. Axl waved a hand to clear the air, breath coming in short pants as he struggled to make sense of things.

"Why are you here? What's the point of all this?"

David sauntered around the seating area to stand in front of the tv, thumbs hooked loosely in the front pockets of his well-worn jeans. He pulled a cigarette out of his shirt pocket, lighting up with an ornate silver lighter.

"Good questions, Red. I've grown rather fond of all of you over the years. Thought I'd extend a personal invitation to eternity."

Axl went even paler than normal, color draining from his face. "You can't be serious."

"This is one thing I never kid about, Red. Gotta be something special to join my boy band."

"No!... No. You talk like this is nothing. I don't even understand how it can be real!"

David gives the singer a very mild look as he exhales. The next moment, his face was demonic, eyes fiery gold rimmed with red, face contorted with sharp ridges, fangs showing long in a devilish smile.

Around the room, his gang shifted as well, chuckling at the sounds of distress coming from the aging musicians. Slash was stunned, images of a statuesque youth with soft lips wrapped around his dick warring with the ferocious look of the creature moving to stand over him now.

Axl was trembling, reaching for Duff as the tall blonde crumpled to his knees beside him, the both of them breathing raggedly. Caught like a deer in the headlights, Slash couldn't make himself move as Marko reached down, light fingers with razor blade nails running gently along the curve of his cheek.

"Don't be afraid of us. Be one of us."

Slash swallowed dryly, brain stuck in a loop, cycling between the memory of the youth's angelic face and the unbelievability of the truth that stared at him with sharp-toothed grin. A soothing sense of warmth blossomed in his mind, and he relaxed into it.

"Marko, no influencing our friends. They have to decide for themselves."

The warmth vanished, Marko's face going boyish again, looking embarrassed as he ducked his head at David's words, his hand dropping away. The guitarist reached out, taking hold of Marko's now soft and human appearing hand.

"You…really want me…us? To be like you?"

"SLASH? What are you doing?" Axl's voice was shrill with fear and hurt.

"We all want you. All of you." David confirmed. "Think of it - your music could span centuries."

"Easy for you to say." Axl turned, practically spitting harsh words at David. "What good is it to live forever when my voice is crapping out now? Shit's torn, nodules popping up every other year. What's the point? Who'd want to hear that forever?"

For once, the smirk slipped off David's face, and he strode over to Axl. Taking a knee, he reached out, cupping Axl's face, and the redhead was too shocked to pull away.

"Don't think I don't see your pain, that I don't know what fuels your nightmares." David's voice was soft and low. "This is a way out, a way forward to something better. Let me heal you. Injuries, illness, these things have no power over our kind."

Axl started to shake, hand lifting to rest over David's, peel it off his face. His eyes glistened, lowering from David's kindly gaze.

"_Where have you been?_" he hissed.

"I'm here now."

Axl barked out a cruel laugh. "And what good is it to me that you're here now? Where were you twenty years ago, ten years ago? How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this?"

David put a hand on the singer's knee. "Oh, Axl. Age cannot wither what makes you magnificent."

Axl turned his head, moist and wary green eyes meeting calm, inviting blue. David slid his hand slowly up the man's thigh, smirking when Axl's eyebrows shot up.

"Besides," he drawled. "When you're a vampire, you become very sexy."

Axl gave him a skeptical look. "Really?"

David just lifted both hands, gesturing at himself as evidence. Axl snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Easy for you, maybe. Exactly how long have you been twenty?"

David grinned and winked, patting his leg and standing up. "Ask me later. We'll have plenty of time for sob stories." He extended a hand. "That is, if you'll join us? Don't keep me hanging, I don't ask just anybody."

Axl looked at David's hand, then looked over at his friends. "Slash?"

The wild-haired man glanced back, then around at the young men, finally turning back to Axl, running a hand up to push the hair out of his face.

"I dunno, man… I say we go for it. Together? Don't want to be the only old fart on the team."

The young-looking men around them burst into laughter. After a moment, David wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. "Ah, kids these days. You're too funny, short stop."

Slash made a face. "You gonna be calling me forever?"

"Perhaps."

"Ok, I'm out."

Axl blew a raspberry, taking David's hand and standing. "Pussy. If I can do it, so can you." Slash stuck his tongue out at him, but stood up as well. The redhead looked down at the tall blonde that still kneeled, staring up at them both with furrowed brow and mournful eyes.

"Duffer?"

The bassist shook his head. "I…I dunno man. I just…my wife, you know? We've been through so much together. I don't think I could stand to leave her behind, or the kids. I just…don't think I can do it. But I won't stop you, if that's what you want. I understand why you would."

Axl looked poleaxed, squatting down to put a hand on Duff's shoulder. "You sure, bud? It might seem like a good idea now, but you might have second thoughts when you're Jimmy Page's age."

Duff huffed out a sad chuckle. "You might be right. Maybe ask me again then, hmm?"

"You know I'm gonna hold you to that." Axl pulled his friend close, the two touching foreheads for a long moment.

"I hate to break up such a touching moment, but this is a bit of an issue. We don't like having humans know about us. It's pretty much a 'do or die' deal."

Axl turned towards David, shielding Duff with his body.

"You're not killing him. I'd rather die now then join you at the cost of his life."

Slash turned as well, now standing over the other two. "What he said."

David scowled as he looked over the trio, eyes flashing gold as the atmosphere turned thick with tension.

"Duff. Your friend's lives, and yours, depend on your answer. If we let you live, will you keep them, and their secret, safe, from now till you meet your end? Don't lie. I'll know."

Duff stood, pulling Axl up with him, then wrapping his arms around the singer and Slash. He looked David dead in the eye. "Their secret is safe with me, as long as I'm alive to keep it."

David smiled. "Well said." He clapped his hands together, the sharp crack making the three musicians jump a little, to the amusement of the vampires. "So, ready for eternity?"

Duff coughed into his hand. "Not to kill the moment, but…what are you gonna do for daylight shows? I'm guessing that's a real thing?"

Axl and Slash turned towards each other with 'Oh, shit' looks on their faces. They gave David troubled glances.

He smirked back. "Excellent question. Good thing you've got seasoned experts on hand to answer. It's been our experience that very few people bother to question the eccentric rich who never go out before sunset and spend their days chasing the sun, or in this case, the short winter days. Having a loyal human willing to cover any daytime problems is pretty damn useful too." He produced another cigarette from somewhere, lighting up and taking a long drag. "That work for you kids?"

Axl and Slash looked at each other, then back at Duff. His eyes were damp, but he gave them an encouraging smile.

They took deep, steadying breaths, turning toward David in unison. He smirked, walking to the middle of the room before turning back to face them, dropping the cigarette to grind it into the carpet.

"Slash." He beckoned, voice like silk over gravel.

The curly haired man shuddered, looking back at Axl for a moment, then stepping forward. Axl reached out, grabbing his friend's arm.

"I'll go first, if you want."

"Sorry Red. That's not your choice to make."

Axl frowned at the vampire, who just winked and held out his hand to the guitarist.

Slash took his hand, letting David draw him close. He could feel his heart beating like the bass in a speed metal song, breath turning shallow and fast.

"Relax, Slash." David stroked his cheek, light fingers trailing down a tawny neck, pulling a shiver from the mortal. "I've bitten you before, you know."

Slash's eyes went a little wide, but he nodded, the memory of dark purple hickeys that commemorated nights of bliss coming to easily to mind.

"I... I had a pacemaker put in a while back. That's not gonna screw anything up?"

David chuckled, cool breath ghosting over Slash's cheek.

"Not at all. Once you're all set, we can help you yank that sucker out. It'll be fun."

The guitarist gave a shaky smile, and David leaned in to capture his lips, gentle kiss turning deeper and more heated till Slash broke for breath, face flushed, heart beating fast for a different reason. He moaned softly as cool lips traced a path along his jaw and down his neck, the only hint that David had made his move the slight hitch in the mortal's breath as razor teeth sank in.

David curled strong arms around the guitarist, taking them slowly down to kneel on the floor. Long minutes pass before he lifted his head, no trace of blood save the slight red tinge to his lips.

Kissing Slash again, the human tasted the strong iron of his own blood on the tongue invading his mouth. This time David broke the kiss, bringing his own wrist to his lips to sink teeth in deep, tearing a wound that bubbled with dark blood, and he lifted it to Slash's mouth.

"Drink deep, and be one of us."

Slash was loose limbed, slightly dizzy as he held David's wrist weakly, the blood spilling past his full lips. As the warm, thick liquid slipped over his tongue, it seemed to burn a bright path, stronger than any whisky he'd ever had.

It flowed down his throat, into his stomach, like liquid lightning, and he was sure he was glowing. From his core the fire blasted outward, rippling under his skin, and he felt suddenly fierce and powerful, more alive than he'd been since he was a teenager, running wild on the streets of L.A.

The high was stronger, more empowering, more seductive than anything he'd ever had, and he tightened his grip on David's arm, rubbery limbs replaced with iron and steel cable. He drank deep, feeling his cock grow rock hard where it brushed against David's leg.

"Slash." The words were soft, but there was a hidden depth of command that pulled his eyes open to look up at David. The source of all that was good and bright in the world gazed down at him with soft blue eyes and gentle smirk. "That's enough now."

Slash whined, the font of heavenly manna pulling away, leaving him panting, wiping his face with his hand and licking off the last traces of that amazing substance. The white-hot fire banked slowly, becoming a steady burn that sat low in his groin, and he shifted, groaning when David's movements brushed against him again.

David rose, offering a hand to the newly born vampire. When Slash stood up tall, the rest of David's men cheered and hollered, moving in to offer back-cracking hugs, and in Marko's case, a deep-throated kiss, to the wild, happy catcalls of the others.

"Alright, boys. Take care of our new brother, and our esteemed guest."

David motioned at Duff, winking.

Paul was first to speak up. "How 'bout we crank up some tunes?"

Over general noise of loud discussion, the TV was turned off, and a phone docked to a speaker system. Duff put on a long playlist full of grinding guitars as David's gang started getting more comfortable.

Marko was the first to strip down, pressing himself into Slash as he pulled up the curly-haired man's shirt. Not to be outdone, Paul embraced his new brother from behind, nuzzling his shoulder and whispering in his ear.

"Always knew you were a wild ride. Can't wait to take you for a spin."

Paul's hands slid down low, caressing and squeezing gently, to Slash's very vocal delight. Meanwhile, a shirtless Dwayne curled around Duff's back, hands roaming high and low.

"I missed you, blondie."

He chuckled deep as the tall man moaned softly, leaning his head back on his shoulder.

Axl watched as the group got intimate, breath shallow and rapid. David appeared in front of him, placing a light hand on his shoulder, turning them toward the large, more private bedroom.

"Come on, Red. Got something special planned for the leader of the band."

Axl let himself get pulled along, though his eyes were a bit white rimmed. David rubbed his shoulder gently, breaking contact for a moment to close the door.

"Get comfortable, Red. We're gonna be a while."

Axl sat, somewhat reluctantly, taking off his boots. He watched David as the pale blonde removed his shirt, finally turning away with a ragged sigh.

Startling at the feel of hands on his thighs, Axl looked down to become locked in David's hungry gaze, the vampire suddenly completely naked, kneeling at his feet.

"It's alright, Red. I'm not gonna rush you. We'll walk through this nice and slow."

Axl sat frozen, lost in a sea of self-recrimination and uncertainty. Light hands found the hem of his t-shirt, lifting slowly and reaching around to pull it over Axl's head from behind.

"So delicate, so beautiful. Do you not remember how spectacular you are?"

Cool fingers ran over Axl's chest, sliding up to cradle his chin, run lightly over his scalp and through his hair.

Troubled green eyes gazed at reassuring blue, the vampire smiling kindly up at the mortal that sat aching and unsure. With gentle pressure, David guided Axl to stand, helping remove his jeans.

The two stood facing each other, Axl with his arms crossed loosely, eyes on anything but the pale and beautiful man smiling at him. He almost startled when David reached out, slowly embracing him, and he shuddered when their chests touched.

"Easy, Red. Look at me, talk to me. Tell me what you want, or at least what you don't."

Axl's eyes tracked up, to find David's gaze soft and inviting. He relaxed a little, unfolding his arms to curl hesitantly around the other man. The warmth of David's body was surprising after the nearly frosty touch of his fingers.

"For someone who makes a living making a hell of a lot of noise, you sure are being quiet." David cupped Axl's cheek, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Gotta be something I can do to get a reaction."

A quick motion, and he was cupping Axl's cock, fingers curling around to massage with a firm grip. The singer gasped, clutching at David's back, eyes going wide then closing in pleasure, growing hard under the blonde's touch.

"Ah…fuck."

"He speaks at last."

David pulled his hand away, and Axl groaned.

"Bastard."

"Yes. Something we have in common." David shifted, hands gripping Axl's ass to pull their groins together, humming low in his chest as sensitive flesh connected, creating pleasant friction.

"Asshole…" Axl ground out, gasping. "Fuck you."

"Maybe, if you ask nice later." David leaned in, kissing a slow trail up Axl's neck to claim his lips, tilting away to smirk at the panting mortal. "How 'bout we get horizontal?"

Axl's eyes went a little wide, sure the vampire could hear the sudden pounding of his heart.

"Why does it trouble you?"

Axl frowned, shaking his head free from David's light touch. "It doesn't."

"You're a bad liar." Lips dipped to his collarbone, smiling against his skin. Axl shivered, feeling hands slide up his sides.

"Come, lay down with me, Red. I promise I won't bite…till you beg me to."

Breathing in sharply, Axl swallowed, looking at the bed behind him. David moved past him, pulling down the covers and climbing in.

Axl watched, eyes lingering on David's smooth form, blushing when David turned and caught him staring. The vampire patted the space next to him, grinning wide, and after a deep breath, Axl crawled in next to him.

David clearly enjoyed watching him get close and settle down. "You always this eager to get in bed? Good thing I'm immortal or I might pass away waiting for you."

Axl glared at him, David snickering and patting his knee. "Take it easy, princess. We both know how this is gonna end. Question is how much fun we can have getting there."

The blonde leaned across, gripping firmly on Axl's far arm and pulling till the human was draped across him, their chests touching, Axl's leg on top of his.

"Didn't think you were the shy type."

"I'm not."

David snorted. "So? Could've fooled me. Make a move, Red. You've got my full attention, or…you will, when you find your courage."

His hand snuck up to tweak a nipple, and Axl's eyes flashed at the challenge.

"Don't tell me what to do, asshole."

"Oh, Red." The blonde chucked darkly, cupping Axl's chin. "So much anger to hide all that fear."

Axl yanked his chin away. "I'm not scared of you."

David grabbed it back, forcing the man to look him in now fiery gold eyes. "You sure about that?"

The redhead's heart jumped, but he didn't flinch. "Yeah."

"Prove it."

With a snarl, Axl leaned in, meeting David's lips with ferocity, and the vampire smiled around the attempted attack, letting the mortal press him back into the pillow-cushioned headboard. When Axl started nipping along his neck and sliding a hand down his groin, he growled and flipped them, pinning the singer and taking a quick bite of his shoulder, lapping at the rich blood flowing from the small wound.

Feeling the vampire press him down, the singer bucked and pushed, nearly frantic as he felt David's hands wander down to grab his ass.

"Get off me!" Axl hissed, squirming against David's hold.

"Why? I'm comfortable, and you're too much fun."

Axl struggled harder, heart racing. David let his hand slide lower, fingers brushing taint and crevasse, and the man under him hit full-on blind panic, thrashing hard, the only sound strained grunting as he tried vainly to dislodge his tormentor.

David stayed put, an immovable object despite Axl's frenzied efforts, though his hold turned gentle. He watched with interest as the singer beneath him fought long-buried demons, tears flowing, breath and heart rate ratcheting up as nightmares consumed him.

Staring deep into white-rimmed, blank, eyes, David pushed lightly into the human's mind.

"Easy, little one, easy. This pain is old, a ghost long past. Let it go, come back to now."

A sense of soothing comfort washed through Axl, and slowly the fear diminished, letting him crawl free of its clutches. Calm blue eyes watched as the pain-filled fog in sea-green staring back started to dissipate.

Axl panted hard, almost hiccuping, and David rolled them both so they lay side by side. He opened arms in gentle invitation, and after a moment the singer dove into the welcoming embrace, shaking with restrained sobs.

Stroking Axl's back, David waited for this second wave of the storm to pass, whispering quiet words, laying soft kisses along a cheek nearly as pale as his. When Axl finally came up for air, breath evening out, eyes red-rimmed and swollen, the vampire hummed softly, wiping the last tears away.

The redhead glanced sheepishly at the mess he'd made of David's chest as he wiped his nose on his arm, suddenly glancing around for something to clean off with. The blonde reached over him, grabbing a handful of tissues, smiling as Axl wiped him clean before cleaning his own arm and nose.

"Sorry."

"Don't mention it, Red. Not the worst thing I've been covered in."

Axl paused, then huffed dryly. "Same."

He rolled onto his back, sighing loudly.

"Yes?"

"Didn't mean to kill the mood."

"You say that like I haven't been pushing your buttons all night long."

Axl turned a frown towards the vampire, who's amused gaze only made him grumble.

"You did, didn't you. Asshole."

David laughed. "Damn right. And I'll do it again, if I think you need it. Time to put this crap behind you and enjoy your new life. You learn shit like that after a few centuries or so."

Axl stared at him. "How old are you?"

"…chariots…"

The redhead's eyes went wide. "No way!"

David turned, giving him a very bland look.

Axl's brows nearly reached his hairline. "You've got to be fucking with me!"

The blonde's cool demeanor dissolved into a fit of laughter, Axl's gaze going squinty with annoyance, that shifted to rolling eyes and a smirk.

"You really are a bastard, you know."

"Never said I wasn't."

Placing a cool hand on Axl's cheek, he leaned in, smiling softly.

"Ready to take it once more, from the top?"

Axl frowned, concern flashing in his eyes. "I want to…but I'm not sure I can."

"I can help, if you'll let me?"

A crease grew between Axl's eyebrows, but he shrugged and nodded. A feeling of peace gently seeped into his mind, and he looked questioningly at David.

"Perks of being one of us. Just a bit of a block and a nudge. You'll learn how to do it for yourself after you change."

Axl gave a weak smile, leaning over to kiss the being that welcomed him, treated him with such care. David again rolled on top of him, and when the panic didn't come, the nightmares strangely absent, Axl relaxed and deepened the kiss.

Breaking for breath, he was nearly laughing with relief, wrapping arms tightly around the vampire and pulling him even closer. David growled merrily, playfully nipping along the singer's neck and shoulder before taking another quick bite, licking the shallow wound closed almost immediately.

Axl's breath hitched, and he pushed at David, who let himself be rolled so the redhead could lift up, lean over the pale blonde, hand skirting over cool, smooth flesh. David was smiling, but his eyes glinted with challenge, watching the singer with predatory focus.

Dropping down, Axl tasted skin with slow relish, fingers tracing a path for his tongue to follow as he inched down the bed. Coming even with David's hip, he licked teasingly around prominent bones, bottom teeth grazing hollows and swells, looking back up with a smirk the blonde with burning eyes matched.

He let his fingers drift over silken skin, watching it twitch and jump. A sharp growl had the redhead grinning madly before licking a long stripe up the vampire's dick. A cool hand carded through the singer's hair, encouraging, but not pushing.

Positioning himself between muscular legs, Axl glanced up to meet a soft, amused look. He blushed a little, cheek growing hot against the inside of David's thigh.

Drawing in a steadying breath, Axl put a hand under the other man's leg, bending it up for more access. Diving in, he started teasing, tasting, exploring with fingers and tongue, spurred on by the way David groaned and rolled under his touch.

Suddenly, he was captured, lifted, lain gently on his back on the bed, a pale and ghostly man mirroring his own efforts, with far more knowledge and intent. That wicked mouth was tender, taunting in turns, laying patterns of blossoming marks down Axl's neck, chest, belly, thighs, leaving the redhead moaning, writhing, hard and leaking with need.

David glanced up, pinned the mortal with fiery eyes and hungry grin, lifting both legs to bare intimate places to his ravenous assault. Axl nearly screamed as a tongue pushed in hard on sensitive nerves, whimpering as it withdrew, only to sob as a warm mouth wrapped itself around his dick, sinking down to the root, tight throat working evil magic as he thrashed in helpless ecstasy.

Axl could feel an immense wave building pressure in his groin, his body bowing in anticipation as he grabbed vainly at pillows, sheet, anything to ground him, give him something to cling to as his muscles started locking up. And then, all contact was gone, cool air making his cock twitch, not even the weight of David's body on the bed to reassure him he was not alone.

Panting out soft whines, he cracked open tightly scrunched eyes, looking around to see the vampire standing by the bedside, golden eyes staring as though mesmerized.

"Breathtaking."

David sat on the edge, hand snaking out to run lightly down Axl's body, the singer twitching, straining at the feel, intensely hard and longing for more. The pale blonde got up, moving once more between the redhead's legs, staring down with avid hunger.

He touched Axl, fingers slicked as they breached him with slow pressure till one by one, they slipped easily in, teasing nerves with whisper touches. Axl was reduced to a mewling, yearning mess, body heaving, craving release but unable to get more than the lightest caress.

"Axl."

A deep voice, thick as syrup, pulled at him, and the singer looked up at the achingly beautiful demon poised above him.

"Do you want me? All of me?"

Axl's throat was dry as the desert, taking far too much effort to croak out a hoarse 'yes'.

David's smile was incandescent. Entering Axl with patient gentleness, the mortal's legs bent up and hooked around, he sank down till they were fully joined, hips and groin slotted neatly together.

The singer keened, clenching and tossing, eyes rolling up as David's weight settled on him.

"Axl."

Softer yet rougher, the voice broke through him again, heavy with barely restrained longing.

Green eyes met gold without fear.

David reached up, slicing open a deep cut at the side of his neck. Bracing himself over Axl, he cupped the back of the singer's head, pulling him close.

"Drink, and be one of us."

Breathing in the scent of iron layered with sweet and smoky earth, Axl wrapped his arms around David, tilting up and placing his mouth over the wound. Fire dripped over his tongue and down his throat, so bright he nearly missed the sting of David's fangs sinking in to his own shoulder.

Axl's body shook, power exploding in his core, shooting through his limbs till he buzzed and sparked like a live wire. Wrapped around David, he clung fiercely, face buried in the crook of the vampire's neck, drinking deep the heady potion.

Stars burst behind the singer's eyes, kaleidoscope colors swirling, strains of melodies and lines of poetry coalescing and fading and rewriting themselves as the blaze of light poured through him. Dimly he felt David's teeth retract, warm lips pressing against his jaw.

"Axl. Enough."

Reluctantly, the redhead felt himself break away from the oozing wound, as though a hand had pulled him back, though David hadn't touched him. He stared with glazed eyes at the blonde, letting his lids droop as their lips met, exchanging the taste of each other.

Brilliant energy cooled and pooled, settling in Axl's groin with enough force to leave him gasping into David's mouth, rocking up and hovering on the brink of explosion. David smiled down, sliding his hips excruciatingly slowly back and forth, the singer quivering beneath him with pent up need, nails gripping his back hard enough to break skin.

A flash of devilish delight in ice blue eyes was the only warning before David began pounding Axl into the mattress, hips snapping with enough force to break lesser beings. Axl howled as rapture hit like a supernova, pulsing outward from behind his dick to flow like a tidal wave through him. The wave grew in strength, and he hit notes he hadn't in a decade, sustained pure and clear for long beats, till finally the euphoria started to ebb, and with long, moaning breaths he collapsed back on the bed.

"Still with me, Red?"

David's teasing voice pulled him back from his reverie. Axl nodded, opening his eyes blearily, still panting.

"Glad to hear it, Red. We haven't even hit the first verse…and this song's gonna last all…night…long…"

David's words were punctuated by rolling thrusts that wrung new sounds from Axl, that banked fire suddenly sparking to high flames, hungry dick hard and needy again. David started humming, hot lips and hard teeth driving bolts of lightning through the singer's body. Axl suddenly froze, amazement-turning-to-amusement in his voice as he addressed the man rolling balls deep into him.

"Are you…singing 'Rocket Queen'?"

David answered with a chuckle so deep Axl could feel it in his toes.

"You might be young, but honey you ain't naïve…"


	6. Yesterdays and tomorrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a new day dawns

Ch. 6 – Yesterdays and tomorrows

Yesterday, there was so many things  
I was never told  
Now that I'm startin' to learn  
I feel I'm growin' old

'Cause yesterday's got nothin' for me  
Old pictures that I'll always see  
Time just fades the pages  
In my book of memories  
Prayers in my pocket  
And no hand in destiny  
I'll keep on movin' along  
With no time to plant my feet

'Cause yesterday's got nothin' for me  
Old pictures that I'll always see  
Some things could be better  
If we'd all just let them be

Yesterday's got nothin' for me

'Yesterdays' ~ Guns N Roses

…...

Warning…m/m explicit, multiple partners

…...

Axl lay with his head pillowed on David's silent chest, the blonde's hand running idly up and down his back.

"Won't be long till dawn."

The singer hummed distractedly, fingers tracing down the other man's abdomen.

"Something wrong, Red?"

Axl tilted his head to look at David.

"Would you really have killed us all over Duff's refusal?"

David smirked down. "Tell me Red, how many times have I visited you?"

The singer frowned, trying to sort through hazy memories. "Dunno. Three, maybe four times?"

David gave a deep chuckle. "Try doubling that, and add some more for your friends."

Axl stared, lifting up, surprise turning to annoyance. "What did you do?"

Tapping his temple, the vampire grinned. "Just what was needed. You remembered what was important. If shit hadn't worked out, well, you'd have still had a few good years left, plenty of time to meet again."

"…was this the first time you asked?"

A gentle hand carded through short red hair. "Yes."

"Why now? Why did you wait?"

Pale blue eyes crinkled, a fond smile gracing soft lips.

"Had to let you sort yourselves out. So many personal issues, addictions to overcome. What you have is rare, Red. Couldn't just take one, needed to be the whole package."

Axl turned pensive. "Are we whole though?"

"You're the ones that made it through. The ones that came back together. That stand you all took against me? That loyalty, that brotherhood? That's what I was looking for."

Axl sighed as he relaxed back on David's chest.

"I miss the others though. When we made ourselves a family, us against the world."

David curled an arm around the singer's shoulders, kissing the top of his head.

"We'd have taken them if it was right. Sweet as he is, Steven's too weak to be one of us. And Izzy would want this less than Duff. You know this."

Axl dropped his gaze, grumbling as he readjusted himself, curling in closer. It stung to hear, but he couldn't argue the truth of David's words.

"You really are an asshole, you know that?"

David's laughter shook them both. "Takes one to know one, Red."

…...

In the suite's giant tub, Dwayne had Duff bent over the rim, the vampire's hips and hand rolling in slow rhythm as the tall blonde braced himself, stuttering moans falling from his lips. Warm water swirled with their movements, sloshing violently against the sides of the tub.

Duff could feel pressure building, tension ratcheting the muscles in his thighs and arms tighter, moans turning low and guttural, answered by matching growls from the dark-haired man behind him. With a shuddering groan, the blonde felt his body lock up, every function frozen in deference to the waves of pleasure radiating from his groin, drowning all thought and sense.

A sudden jerk brought him back, near excruciating sensitivity making him gasp and tremble, still pinned against the rim of the tub, at Dwayne's mercy. The dark-haired man pulled out, releasing him, sitting back and beckoning when Duff turned around.

Moving slowly, the musician seated himself gingerly, wrapping long legs around Dwayne as the tawny man guided him down to nestle deep inside him once more.

Looking up, Dwayne let his eyes shift, smiling toothily when Duff's heart sped up. With exaggerated gentleness, he kissed up the blonde's chin, meeting lips with a feather touch over and over, till Duff was the one pulling him close, invading his mouth with eager tongue, hissing as a sharp fang caught and drew blood. Then Dwayne dove in, lapping eagerly, soothing the sting and leaving the human gasping for breath.

Breaking apart, he locked golden eyes to lust-wide hazel, a smirk met and returned despite the swiftly beating heart. Kissing a slow trail down stubbled jaw, to wiry neck and arched throat, the vampire started rolling his hips, easily lifting the man impaled on his lap.

One last fiery side glance and he let needle teeth sink slowly into softly thrumming skin, rich blood pooling on his tongue. Groaning into the wound, he spilled deep, rocking them both in the thrall of his release.

Hands slid up, sinking deep in raven silk, holding Dwayne close as Duff ground down, lean body shaking with overstimulation. Letting himself return to a human façade, the vampire licked the small bite closed, curling strong arms around the blonde to stroke soothingly, encouraging the human to relax in his embrace.

Resting his chin over Dwayne's shoulder, Duff chuckled weakly. "Jesus, is it always like this? Last time, it took me a week to recover, even longer before I could look my lady in the eye."

He could feel Dwayne's body shake with laughter, rumbling voice in his ear. "You play your instrument better now, after a few decades of practice, yeah?"

"Well, yeah…oh."

More amusement that shook them both. "Imagine how you'd be after a century or so."

"Shit! Really?" Duff pulled back to look at Dwayne, wonder painting his face.

A wistful look came over the tawny skinned man. "It's been a very long time since David found me…" he tucked a strand of golden hair behind Duff's ear "…yet looking back it seems like nothing, a blink of an eye, or less. I was there then, and I'm here, now."

"Do you miss anyone, anything, at all?"

"Not really. Life was good then, but it's good now too, just different. I sure don't regret not being ground into dust, my bones pulled up and tossed in a museum for the amusement of others. And I really don't regret being around to meet you."

The vampire leaned in, kissing the blonde softly, letting it grow deeper till Duff had to break for air. The blonde shook his head as he caught his breath.

"Fucking hell, don't you ever stop? Fuck blanks, I'm gonna be shootin' blood at this rate…"

"Sounds delicious…"

"Holy fuck!"

Duff startled as Dwayne growled hungrily, face all sharp angles, eyes glowing, tongue darting out of a feral grin. Letting his predatory smile grow for a minute, the vampire paused before his eyes crinkled, fading to mahogany once more as he rocked with laughter.

"Bastard." Duff huffed, annoyance bleeding into wry amusement.

"Probably. Still funny though."

Duff snorted, rolling his eyes. A quiet moan caught his attention, and he glanced across the room to see Slash reclined against the long-haired blonde, his head arched back, wild curls mingling with Paul's to make a drape of shaggy straw and inky mop over the other man's shoulder.

A shock of pale honey curls bobbed unhurriedly in his friend's lap; a marble-sleek form stretched out along the couch, perfectly curved ass tilted up, waving temptingly. Dwayne followed Duff's gaze, smirking as he watched his brothers' languid assault on their newest member.

With a babbling whine, Slash tangled strong fingers in Marko's hair, thighs quivering, chest bowing out only to snap back as he curled over the man between his legs, swearing incoherently between panting breaths. Gentle hands pulled him back against Paul's chest, Marko releasing him with a soft pop to crawl up and lay on his broad chest, sharing the taste of his spend in a lingering kiss.

The three wrapped themselves around each other, limbs tangling, Paul and Marko nipping on either side of Slash's neck. He tipped his head back, groaning when teeth sank in, and they smiled into his skin, lips and tongues working gently to milk shallow wounds.

The door to the bedroom opened, David striding out fully dressed and smoking, Axl following a bit more leisurely, clad in loose boxers.

"Well, I hate to pull a Cinderella, but the clock is chiming and we're about to turn into pumpkins. Assholes and elbows, boys."

There was a chorus of groans, followed by rustling and sloshing as Dwayne, Paul and Marko got up and started putting themselves together. Slash sat on the couch, blinking and watching the bustle, scratching his scalp idly.

Axl came and sat down next to him, smiling when the wild-haired man threw an arm around him. Pulling his naked friend close, he stared openly as the other vampires dressed, grinning when Paul winked and blew him a kiss.

David came over, dropping to a knee in front of Slash and taking one of his hands. "Good thing we've got all the time in the world…" He drew a sharp nail across the palm, drawing a thin line of blood. "…so much fun to be had now that you're more…durable…" He bent his head, tongue dragging slowly along the cut, sharp eyes flashing amusement as Slash shivered.

Standing up again, he winked at Axl. "Sorry, kids, but we've got to be off. No safe place here for us old-timers. You two'll be fine though. You're still in transition, the sun won't be more than unpleasant."

He whirled around, catching Duff's eye. "Wouldn't expect much outta these two today, they'll sleep like the dead." David's brothers chuckled dryly at that. "They'll be fine around sundown; we'll be back not much after that."

Duff nodded, and the three musicians followed the vampires out to the balcony, watching in amazement as they lifted off, disappearing in rush of wind.

Slash was hanging on the railing, straining to see where they'd vanished to. "Did you SEE that!" he exclaimed as he spun around. "They were fuckin' flying! We're gonna FLY, Ax!" He grabbed the singer in a bone-crushing hug.

"Something else you're gonna have to do, Slash." Duff said softly. "Gonna have to feed sometime, I guess."

Slash settled; exuberance drained in an instant. "Yeah…yeah. We are." He shrugged. "There are more than enough assholes out there that nobody'll miss though. Is that really why you didn't want to join us?"

Now Duff shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "I dunno, man. It just seemed too fast; you know? It's kind of a big freakin' deal to just jump in to – not that I think you were wrong to want to. I just…need a little more time to process it."

"It's cool, man. Healthy as you are, you'd've probably outlived us all anyway. Take your time. We'll be here, whenever you're ready. Be here even if you never are. Stay with you till the end, yeah?"

Duff smiled, reaching out to pull his friends into an embrace. "To the end."

"To the end!" Axl and Slash shouted together, returning his hug with enthusiasm, till Duff wheezed, swatting at them.

"Hey, I still need to breath, dammit!"

Chuckling, they let go, heading back inside. Duff lingered for a moment, looking up into the lightening sky, rubbing absently at the soft bruise on his throat.

"You coming, blondie, or are you gonna sleep out there today?"

Duff shouted over his shoulder, never taking his eyes from the sky. "Fuck you, I'm coming!"

"Yeah, that's what he said…"

At the sound of laughter, he smirked, rolling his eyes. Sighing, he turned away, following the others inside as the sun began to crest the horizon.


End file.
